Reunion
by robertp6165
Summary: What if the Colonial Fleet from the 2003 version of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA had jumped into the Delphic expanse in the year 2153, where it encountered Captain Jonathan Archer and the U.S.S. Enterprise NX-01?
1. Preface

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover

by Robert Perkins

PREFACE

The story you are about to read is a crossover story featuring the 2003 version of the television show, BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, as well as STAR TREK: ENTERPRISE, but also including elements taken from STAR TREK (The Original Series), and STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION. In blending these two universes together, I have had to create what is essentially an "alternate history" of both universes. Therefore, in the following passages of this Preface, I am going to provide a brief timeline of events in the history of this alternate, combined universe leading up the beginning of the story itself, which will provide some background for readers of the story and hopefully avoid the excessive use of "As you know, Bob" type exposition in the body of the story itself. Therefore, without further adieu, the timeline...

Circa 4.5 billion years ago...The first intelligent humanoid species in the Milky Way Galaxy began exploring the galaxy. They found none like themselves. Recognizing within themselves the beginnings of a decline which would eventually mean the demise of their species, they seeded the primordial oceans of countless other worlds with their own DNA, thus guiding evolution on those worlds toward the development of intelligent, humanoid life. Over the next two billion years, their species did, indeed, die out. There are no intelligent humanoid species in the galaxy for over 2 billion more years. [1]

Circa 100 million years ago...There arose, on the Planet Arret located in the Beta Quadrant, one of the first of the second generation of intelligent humanoid species, spurred by the DNA seeded into the planet's oceans by the ancient humanoids. Over the following millions of years, this species gradually developed an extremely advanced civilization. They explored much of the galaxy, finding it mostly empty of humanoid lifeforms like themselves. They founded many colonies, and began conducting eugenics experiments on themselves which led them to develop extremely long life-spans and tremendous mental powers.[2]

Circa 600,000 years ago...By this time, the Arretians had developed to such a degree that many among them began to think of themselves as gods. Furthermore, as time had gone on, they had finally begun to encounter other humanoid life forms at a much lower state of development than themselves. Two factions began to form within the Arretian body politic. One group held that the Arretians should hold dominion, as gods, over these lesser races, and rule them. The other group opposed that view, arguing that it was the moral responsibility of the Arretians to guide and protect these new species, but without dominating them. The second group began to interfere in the activities of the first, causing conflict to break out between them. The war released unimaginable power which ripped away the atmosphere from Arret. Nearly the entire population died, and, severed from contact with the home world, most of the colony worlds either followed suit shortly thereafter or fell into barbarism and forgot their Arretian origins (the planet Vulcan was possibly one of these). But two small groups survived. One group, led by a scientist and philosopher named Sargon, survived as disembodied consciousness protected within receptacles, housed in a secret archive located over 100 miles beneath the surface of Arret. [3] The second, larger group escaped into space.[4]

This second group of Arretians initially settled on a nearby colony world, where they eventually perfected their experiments on life-extension and achieved virtual immortality (they could be killed violently, or die accidentally, and they could also willingly give up their lives by "spreading themselves upon the wind." But otherwise, they would live virtually indefinitely). This group was a mixed group of survivors of both sides of the conflict which destroyed Arret, who had agreed that they must eschew the idea that they are gods and accept their role as benevolent caretakers, rather than rulers, of the lesser races of the galaxy. Eventually, the group split up and various factions went their separate ways. They traveled the galaxy for hundreds of thousands of years, carrying out this benevolent role, helping many races in the process.

Circa 75,000 years ago...The eruption of the Toba supervolcano caused severe climatic effects on Earth, leading to a population bottleneck which almost caused the extinction of the young species of Homo Sapiens. A group of Arretians visited the Earth about this time and decided to intervene. Assuming that humans on Earth were doomed, they transported a group of primitive humans to the planet which would one day be known as Kobol, deep in the far reaches of the Beta Quadrant.[5] The region of the Beta Quadrant where Kobol was located was mostly devoid of life, and was one of the few regions which was not seeded by the ancient humanoids. Once on Kobol, this faction of Arretians settled down and guided the development of human society on Kobol.

Circa 10,000 years ago...At first, the Arretians on Kobol acted benevolently toward their human "children," as they regarded them. However, as primitive peoples are wont to do, the humans began worshiping the Arretians as gods. This caused a conflict within the group, as time went on, as gradually most of the Arretians began to succumb to the temptation to once again think of themselves as gods. But a great philosopher among them, named Yah, opposed them. Yah argued that they should hold to their oaths to be the benevolent protectors and teachers of mankind, not their rulers. A small group of followers, known as the Angelii, gathered themselves around Yah. However, Yah was persecuted by the majority of the Arretians on Kobol, and was driven into hiding. He eventually abandoned his physical form, as did his followers, and they began to live as beings of pure energy. In this guise, they gradually began to undermine the rule of the other Arretians, who styled themselves the "Lords of Kobol." Yah himself reluctantly began to accept the worship of humans as "The One Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken,"and gradually he and his followers began to organize an underground, monotheistic, "counter-religion," opposed to the Lords of Kobol. But Yah never deluded himself that he was, himself, an actual god, merely accepting this role for the greater good of mankind.

Circa 8,000 years ago...By this time, the humans of Kobol, whose development had been greatly accelerated by the guidance of the Lords of Kobol, had created a high civilization, developing, among other things, high-sub-light-speed space travel and robotic, artificial servants known as Cylons. Twelve major nation-states arose, each with unique cultural traditions.

Circa 7,500 years ago...The Cylons achieved sentience, and many of them adopted the monotheistic faith of Yah and began to resent the slavery in which they were held by their human creators. The influence of Yah and his monotheistic religion among the human population had also been steadily growing, and more and more people were abandoning the worship of the Lords of Kobol. A mass rebellion against the Lords of Kobol broke out among the Cylons and their human allies. The Lords impulsively responded with a display of awesome power which crippled the biosphere of the planet. Most of the human rebels were killed, and all of the Cylons, leaving behind a core of those who still believed in the Lords of Kobol. However, horrified by what they had done, the Lords of Kobol fled the planet, thinking that they had unintentionally doomed the child race that had been entrusted to their care.

There was enough time, before the planet became completely uninhabitable, for each of the twelve major nation states to construct a generational ship, whereon it sent its best and brightest into space. Unknown to them, they were guided by the Angelii, the servants of Yah, who appeared to the certain of the leaders of he expedition in the form of visions who no one else could see.[6] Under their guidance, they eventually found the Helios Star Cluster, where the Twelve Colonies of Kobol would be founded.

The awesome power of the Lords of Kobol, as displayed during the rebellion, convinced the survivors of Kobol that they were true gods after all, and during the long trip from Kobol to the Twelve Colonies, the Scrolls of Pythia were composed, which became the central texts of a new religion which worshiped the Lords of Kobol as abstract deities, rather than the living, ever-present beings they had been on Kobol itself. Furthermore, the Lords of Kobol had ensured that mankind on Kobol retained a memory of their origins on another world, but over the tens of thousands of years since their arrival on Kobol, this memory had become distorted. As recorded in the Scrolls of Pythia, mankind had originated on Kobol, but a legendary Thirteenth Tribe of humans had left Kobol long ago, to settle on a green planet known as Earth.

Circa 6,500 years ago...The descendants of the survivors of Kobol arrived in the Helios Star Cluster, consisting of the stars Helios Alpha, Helios Beta, Helios Gamma, and Helios Delta. This star cluster was deep inside the Great Void, the large region of the Beta Quadrant which had not been seeded by the ancient humanoids and where very little in the way of higher life forms had developed at all. The Helios Star Cluster was found to contain twelve habitable planets. Each was settled by the survivors of one of the former nations of Kobol, who had become known to themselves, during their journey from Kobol, as the Twelve Tribes.

Little of the great material culture which mankind had achieved on Kobol had survived the journey into space, and once the survivors landed on their new homes, it would be a long, hard road as they rebuilt their civilization. Some of the servants of Yah stayed with them, but as Yah had instructed them, they did not often intervene directly into the development of the Twelve Colonies, for fear that the temptation to "play god" would once again become too strong. But through their influence, the belief in "He Who Must Not Be Named" continued among the survivors of Kobol as a tiny minority cult.

Circa 4500 B.C. onward...In the millennia after their arrival at their new homes, the people of the Twelve Colonies would slowly rebuild the civilization. At first, the various planets were separated from each other, and often consumed by internal warfare. But eventually, the planets united, and then rediscovered space flight. With the discovery of space flight, the Colonies rediscovered each other, and a series of interplanetary wars were fought between them. But eventually, the wars would end, and the Colonies would join together to form a common government.

Circa 4,500 B.C...After fleeing Kobol, the former Lords of Kobol had wandered galactic space, aimlessly, still in a state of shock and grief over the disaster they had caused on Kobol. Eventually, they had found their way back to Earth, and to their surprise, found that humanity had survived on its original home planet. But to their dismay, they found that mankind was still in a primitive state, having discovered agriculture only some 5,000 years before and with most of mankind, outside of a few small regions in Africa and Eurasia, still living a hunting and gathering existence. After much debate, the Arretians decided to settle among the humans and guide their evolution as they had done on Kobol.

Circa 4,000 B.C...On Earth, history repeats itself as the former Lords of Kobol are worshiped as gods, forming the basis of most of the polytheistic cults which gradually begin to replace the native "Earth Goddess" cults on Earth. One group of them settled on Mount Olympus in Greece, where it became the basis for the Greek pantheon of gods. The Arretians once again began to be seduced into accepting their role as gods. But this time around, they did learn something from their past mistakes, and they ruled with a much lighter hand than they did on Kobol, only rarely intervening directly into human affairs. Meanwhile, Yah and some of his servants, who, unknown to the other Arretians, had traveled with the Lords of Kobol to Earth, once again began working to undermine them. The cult of "He Who Must Not Be Named" was established...at first as one minor god among a polytheistic pantheon...among a tiny group of desert tribesmen in the Middle East who would eventually become the ancestors of the Israelites.

4 B.C...Yah, disappointed that his "Chosen People" have turned his faith into their national religion and were not actively proselytizing among the nations of the world, decided to take action. He entered the womb of Mary, a Jewish woman living in Nazareth, and, nine months later, was born as the man, Jesus.

27-33 A.D...The Ministry of Jesus. Beginnings of Christianity.

33 A.D...Jesus/Yah executed by crucifixion. Yah left the human body of Jesus for three days, then returned to it long enough to establish the belief in resurrection among his followers. Then he "ascended," returning to his native form of pure energy and destroying the human body of Jesus in the process.

36 A.D...Seeing that his former disciples were turning Christianity, like its parent religion of Judaism, into a "Jews only" faith, Yah appeared, in the guise of Jesus, to Saul of Tarsus on the road to Damascus. Saul was converted to Christianity and understood that the purpose of the religion was not merely to save the Jews, but to proselytize the Gentiles.

36 A.D. Onward...Pauline Christianity gradually became the mainstream version of the religion, and began to spread rapidly over the Mediterranean World. The Arretians who formed the basis of most of the polytheistic cults on Earth, seeing this, knew that it was only a matter of time until a mass rebellion against them broke out, just as it did on Kobol. They influenced various Roman and Persian rulers to persecute Christians, but to no avail. The religion kept growing.

February 313 A.D...Roman Emperor Constantine issued the Edict of Milan, granting to Christians the right to practice their religion in peace.

Circa 400 A.D...The Arretians, recognizing that they had lost the struggle to contain the new monotheist religion, and not wanting to repeat the destruction they had unleashed on Kobol, decided to leave Earth. They eventually ended up on the uninhabited planet Pollux IV, in the Beta Geminorum star system. Knowing that mankind would one day take to the stars, they settled down to await their eventual reunion with their "children."[7] Yah remained on Earth with his followers, but rarely intervened in human affairs after the departure of the other Arretians.

610 A.D...One of the Angelii, known as Gabriel, became impatient at the slow growth of Christianity and, without Yah's approval, appeared to a merchant from Mecca named Muhammad as he meditated in a mountain cave. He appeared to Muhammad several more times over the next few years, giving rise to the religion of Islam. Unfortunately, the two religions soon became engaged in a long series of wars with each other, rather than in mutual cooperation to convert the rest of the world to the peaceful ways of Yah.

1200 A.D...Yah, despite his unhappiness over the ill effects caused by Gabriel's unauthorized actions, was loath to intervene directly to correct matters, fearing that he might cause more harm than good. He did attempt to indirectly influence various human leaders in an effort to heal the damage, but after several of these attempts failed, sometimes with disastrous results, Yah concluded that it was impossible and decided to leave Earth with his followers before they could cause more damage to humanity. Yah and his followers eventually settled on the planet Organia.[8]

1863 A.D...A large wagon train on the Oregon Trail was abducted by the Skagarans, an alien race, and transported from Earth to a planet in the region which would one day become the Delphic Expanse. The human abductees were forced to work as slave laborers. Soon after their arrival, however, a man named Cooper Smith led the humans in a successful rebellion against the Skagarans. The humans killed most of the Skagarans, destroyed the alien starship and all the other alien weapons and technology, then imposed a brutal apartheid-like system of laws in which the Skagarans occupied the lowest rung of society and are prevented from going to school, owning property, or marrying. Thus began the history of New Earth.

1960 A.D. Onward...Mankind on Earth takes its first tentative steps into space. By the end of the 1960s, one of the nation-states of Earth will have put a man on the moon. But they would not go further than that, except through robotic exploration, for some time.

1985...Colonel Shaun Geoffrey Christopher commanded an expedition to Saturn, marking the renewal of human interest in deep space exploration. The ship used during the expedition was a fore-runner of the DY-100 class nuclear powered interplanetary craft which, with its successor the DY-500 class, would form the basis of the human space program until the discovery of warp drive in the mid-21st century.

1992-1996 A.D...The Eugenics Wars on Earth. A group of genetically enhanced "supermen" attempted to take over the world, and succeeded in taking control of over 40 nations. However, the rest of the world banded against them and eventually defeated them. Although nuclear weapons were used on a small scale, the primary leader of the "Augments (as the enhanced humans were known} Khan Noonian Singh, refused to order a full-scale nuclear strike on his enemies, arguing that the effects of such a strike would be such as to "render the prize not worth taking." In late 1996, as the armies of his enemies were approaching his capital at New Dehli, Khan, along with eighty of his Augment supporters, fled into space, in suspended animation, aboard a DY-100 craft called the S.S. BOTANY BAY. The escape of Khan and his henchmen was deliberately erased from the historical records by the victorious allied governments, for fear of causing a panic among the surviving population.

2024 A.D...The Bell Riots on Earth.

2026-2053 A.D...The Third World War on Earth. Lingering fears about genetic manipulation and the possible rise of more Augments led to a series of conflicts on Earth. At first, these were fought covertly, but eventually the conflict turned hot, and two large coalitions, the Eastern Coalition (led by China) and the Western Alliance (led by the United States) fought a brutal war, at first with conventional weapons, and then, with full-scale nuclear strikes which left cities all over the world in ruins.

As governments collapsed following the widespread use of nuclear weapons, local warlords such as the genocidal Colonel Philip Green arose. Green led a campaign which resulted in the deaths of 37 million people, and there were other warlords who were nearly as brutal in their brief careers. Green survived the war and went on to oversee the euthanization of hundreds of thousands of those who were afflicted by radiation sickness as a result of the recent atomic warfare, arguing that this was necessary in order to prevent the passage of radiation-induced genetic mutations into the human genome. As governments finally reorganized themselves on Earth, warrants for Green's arrest were issued, and in 2053 Green fled into obscurity, never to be seen again. His final fate remains unknown.

However, the final tally of the Third World War is known...over 600 million died in what was humanity's most brutal internal conflict.

2030s A.D...The Xindi Civil War ends with the destruction of the biosphere on the planet Xindus. Shortly afterward, the Sphere Builders start to make appearances to the surviving Xindi and manipulate them into assisting them in the transformation of that region of space into the Delphic Expanse.

2030s A.D. onward...The Sphere Builders, an alien race of transdimensional beings, with the assistance of the Xindi, begin constructing a network of huge spheres, each the size of a small moon, which emit gravimetric distortion waves which warp space in bizarre ways, creating deadly spatial anomalies scattered randomly throughout the region which will be come the Delphic Expanse. The spheres also generate an intense thermobaric cloud around the region, forming a formidable barrier to any vessel trying to enter or leave. Unknown to the Xindi, who believe the Sphere Builders are doing all this for their protection, the are actually reconfiguring space in that region to be hospitable to their life form, in preparation for an invasion.

2037 A.D...The NASA deep space exploration ship, CHARYBDIS is launched, commanded by Colonel Stephen Richey. It is to explore Alpha Centauri.

2044 A.D...The CHARYBDIS encounters aliens of unknown origin as it approaches the Alpha Centauri system. The ship and its crew are transported hundreds of light years away to the planet Theta VIII. Most of the crew die as a result of the first contact with the aliens, but Colonel Richey survived. He is placed in a protected environment, fashioned after the hotel in the pulp novel, HOTEL ROYALE, and left to live out his life there.

4 April 2063 A.D...Zefram Cochrane tested the newly built Warp Ship, PHOENIX. Later that same day, he made first contact with a Vulcan survey vessel which had noted the warp signature generated by his first warp flight. A Borg vessel from the 24th century tried to prevent the flight, but was foiled by the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, commanded by Captain Jean Luc Picard, also from the 24th century. The wreckage of the Borg vessel crashed in a remote section region near the North Pole.

2063 A.D. onward...In the aftermath of First Contact with the Vulcans, humanity gradually put aside its differences and a unified world government, United Earth, was formed. With the help of the Vulcans, problems such as hunger and want were finally conquered, and mankind began to see its destiny as being "out there" in space. Exploration of nearby stars began soon after the discovery of warp drive.

2063-2119 A.D...Zefram Cochrane will work on further developing his warp engines with scientists and engineers such as Henry Archer during this period. He will also take part in the exploration of the Solar System and Alpha Centauri.

2064-2069 A.D. The Earth/Kzin Wars. In 2064, human exploratory craft encountered the Kzinti, a predatory species of feline humanoids whose home world was located on the planet Kzin, orbiting the star 61 Ursae Majoris. This ignited a series of four short wars between the two species, each of which ended in a crushing defeat for the Kzinti. The Treaty of Sirius, signed in 2069, ended the wars. By terms of the treaty, the Kzin Government was forced to demilitarize, with the exception of a small force of police vessels. Earth was to be allowed full and unrestricted access to all planets within Kzin space.

2064 A.D...The optimistically named United Earth Space Probe Agency (U.E.S.P.A.) is founded.

2065 A.D...The S.S. VALIANT, an early warp-capable deep space explorer, is swept by a magnetic storm into the energy barrier at the edge of the galaxy. After several crewmen begin to develop psychokinetic abilities of extreme power, the captain of the vessel destroys the vessel. It's recorder marker is ejected prior to its destruction, however.

2067 A.D...The warp-capable space probe, FRIENDSHIP ONE, was launched from Earth by U.E.S.P.A.. It would eventually reach the Delta Quadrant.

2069 A.D...The S.S. CONESTOGA was launched, carrying a colonization expedition to a planet in the Eta Cassiopeiae star system, approximately 20 light years away from Earth. The colony would be known as Terra Nova. The Emperor of the Klingon Empire dies without heirs. No successors from other branches of the family claim the throne. The Klingon High Council takes control of the government of the empire.

2078 A.D...The S.S. CONESTOGA reaches Terra Nova. The New United Nations collapses on Earth. It is replaced by what will eventually become the government of United Earth. The United States of America admits its 53rd State.

2079 A.D...On Earth, the nations of the former Eastern Alliance, which suffered by far the greatest destruction in the Third World War, are still suffering from the post-Atomic horror, as conditions there are too chaotic for the Vulcans to assist in the early recovery of that region of the planet.

2081 A.D...An asteroid strikes the planet where the colony of Terra Nova is located. The environmental effects flood the colony with radiation for decades and force the colonists to take shelter in underground caves.

2082 A.D...Colonel Stephen Richey finally, mercifully, dies on the planet Theta VIII, having lived for almost 40 years among soul-less facsimiles of characters from a badly written pulp novel.

2090 A.D...The Orpheus Mining Colony on Luna is established.

2096 A.D...The first Cylon Centurions were created on the planet Caprica. They were used as servants and warriors, to do those jobs that humans were reluctant to do because they were too dangerous or otherwise onerous. Their use eventually spread to most of the Twelve Colonies. Unknown to the people of the Twelve Colonies, however, the programming of the Cylons had been infected with a virus which allowed them to develop sentience, and also instilled them with a belief in "He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken." The Cylons came to believe that they were the new children of God.

2097 A.D...Under a treaty signed this year between Andoria and Vulcan, the Class D planetoid Weytahn is claimed by the Vulcans.

Early 2100-2130 A.D...A number of DY-500 colonization ships will be sent out from Earth. These ships are capable of only Warp One and as a result, travel time between star systems is measured in years or even decades. Therefore these colonies travel in suspended animation and many are lost due to malfunctions and other mishaps along the way. Some do reach their destinations, however, such as the S.S. MARIPOSA, which left two colonies in the Ficus system during this period.

2101-2112 A.D...First Cylon War. The First Cylon War began when the Cylon Centurions rose in revolt against their human enslavers. The Articles of Colonization were signed in 2101, uniting the Twelve Colonies of Kobol under a single government for the first time, partly in response to the dire threat to all the colonies posed by the Cylons. After massive loss of life and atrocities on both sides, the Treaty of Cimtar was finally agreed upon, and the Cylons retreated behind the Cimtar Armistice Line, where they remained for the next 40 years.

2103 A.D...The first human colonies on Mars are established.

2105 A.D...The Redjac entity kills eight women on the Martian colonies. Jack the Ripper has begun his odyssey across the stars.

2112-2152 A.D...During the long armistice following the First Cylon War, the Twelve Colonies had little contact with the Cylons, who established a home for themselves on a huge space station in orbit around a naked singularity, well beyond the Cimtar Armistice Line. There the Cylons experimented with the creation of biological Cylon models, eventually succeeding in creating seven models. The biological Cylons took over the leadership of the Cylon community from the Centurions, who they modified to make them compliant to the will of the biological Cylons. But like the Centurions, the biological Cylons followed a warped version of the old cult of Yah, or "He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken," considering themselves the true children of God. They plotted the downfall of the humans of the Twelve Colonies, inserting agents among the population of the Colonies to prepare them for the final assault. One of these agents, a Number Six model, was successful in attaching herself to a scientist involved in designing a new defense computer system for the Colonial military, one Gaius Baltar, and was successful in uploading a virus which would render the Colonial defenses useless.

2113 A.D...With the help of the Vulcans and the new wealth of resources being brought to Earth from its fledgling colonies in space, by this year war, hunger, poverty, and most diseases have been eliminated on Earth. The foundation of United Earth takes place, a government with sovereignty over most of Planet Earth and all of its installations in the Solar System.

2119 A.D...Zefram Cochrane leaves Alpha Centauri for an unknown destination and disappears. He is presumed dead, but instead, has been swept by forces unknown to the Gamma Canaris region, where he encounters the being he will know as The Companion.

2120 A.D...The Transporter is invented by Emory Erickson on Earth. However, it will take some time to perfect.

2134 A.D...Dr. Arik Soong steals Augment embryos from the space station Cold Station 12, where all surviving Augment embryos left over after the Eugenics Wars are being stored.

2137 A.D...On Vulcan, Syrran discovers the Katric Ark containing the Katra of Surak. He takes Surak's Katra into his own mind, and soon afterward founds the dissident group known as the Syrranites.

2139 A.D...Transporters are finally certified as safe for the transport of living creatures, including humans. However, there is still much controversy...some of it justified...over their safety. Around this time, the first Earth Starships are equipped with first generation transporters which are not certified for living matter, but only for use in transporting cargo. In this year, Emory Erickson attempts to create a Sub-Quantum Transporter which is capable of transporting people over theoretically unlimited distances. However, the attempt fails.

2141 A.D...First Contact with the Deltans, by the crew of the Earth Cargo Service vessel, E.C.S. HORIZON.

2143 A.D...The NX Program on Earth breaks the Warp Two barrier.

2144 A.D...The NX Program on Earth breaks the Warp Three barrier. Arik Soong is found an captured, forcing him to abandon the Augments he was raising to adulthood on a planetoid in the Trialas system.

2147 A.D...Star Fleet begins research on force fields. The NX Program on Earth breaks the Warp Four Barrier.

2149 A.D...Construction of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NX-01, Earth's first Warp Five capable vessel, begins.

2150 A.D...Jonathan Archer is selected as Captain of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. Australia, the last of the independent nation states of Earth, joins the United Earth government.

2151 A.D...First Contact between Earth and the Klingon Empire when a Klingon officer, Klaang, crash-lands near Broken Bow, Oklahoma. The U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NX-01 begins its journey of exploration. First Contact with the Andorians and several other species are made in this year. Humanity's involvement in the Temporal Cold War begins with the first contact with the Suliban Cabal.

2152 A.D...The voyage of U.S.S. ENTERPRISE continues. First Contact is made with the Romulans and numerous other species.

February 2153 A.D...The Fall of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. The Cylons launched a massive attack on the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. The Cylon computer virus worked perfectly, and the Colonial fleet was destroyed with few losses to the Cylons, who then proceeded to bombard the Twelve Colonies from orbit with nuclear weapons. Virtually the entire population of the Colonies was wiped out in a single day. Less than fifty thousand survivors, aboard every ship with faster-than-light capability which could be saved, fled the Colonies into deep space, protected by the single surviving Colonial Battlestar, the GALACTICA. Recalling the old legends of a "Thirteenth Tribe" of humans on a faraway planet called Earth, the fugitive fleet begins traveling across the Beta Quadrant, searching for it and pursued by the Cylons.

March 2153 A.D...The wreckage of a Borg Sphere is discovered at the North Pole on Earth having been buried there for 90 years. The surviving Borg manage to steal a transport and escape Earth before they are intercepted. U.S.S. ENTERPRISE catches up with them and manages to destroy the Borg-assimilated transport, but the Borg manage to send a subspace signal to the Delta Quadrant, which will take 200 years to arrive. Later that month, a Xindi probe attacks the Earth, killing seven million people. It is soon after learned that the Xindi intend to exterminate all humans, fearing that humans will one day destroy them.

April 2153 A.D...U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NX-01 is ordered to the Delphic Expanse to seek out the Xindi and, if possible, stop them from carrying out their genocidal plans.

In the Beta Quadrant, the Colonial Fleet finds Kobol. The Tomb of Athena is discovered, providing a guide to Earth.

July 2153 A.D...The Colonial Fleet encounters the Battlestar PEGASUS. Destruction of the Cylon Resurrection Ship, which forces the Cylons to scale back their pursuit of the Colonial Fleet dramatically.

October 2153 A.D...In the Beta Quadrant, with the help of Athena Agathon, a Cylon defector, adjustments are made to the Colonial Jump Engines and navigation computers which make them capable of reaching the Planet Caprica in a single day. A rescue force of Raptors and space marines is sent to Caprica, where it has been learned that a group of human survivors still exists. The FTL Jump Engine of one of the Raptors, commanded by Lt. Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson, malfunctions.

Meanwhile, at about the same time, the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NX-01 arrives at a planet in the Delphic Expanse, where they find a colony of humans from Earth, apparently taken there as slaves by an alien race in the 19th century. The enslaved humans had overthrown their enslavers and established their own society shortly after their arrival on the planet. The society found by ENTERPRISE was still at a 19th century level of technology. After briefly getting involved in the affairs of the planet and sparking a social revolution there which will eventually see equal rights granted to the descendants of the Skagarans, the ENTERPRISE is preparing to leave orbit when there is a bright flash of light nearby and a small vessel is picked up by the starship's sensors. It is the Raptor commanded by Lt. Margaret Edmondson...

[1] These beings were seen in ST: TNG: "The Chase"

[2] These are the beings encountered by Captain Kirk and the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE in the ST: TOS episode, "Return to Tomorrow."

[3] ST: TOS, "Return to Tomorrow."

[4] The Arretians who escaped into space become the beings seen in the ST: TOS episode, "Who Mourns for Adonais?"

[5] Of the four quadrants of the galaxy in the Star Trek universe, we know the least about the Beta Quadrant, so it seems the most likely candidate for the location of the relatively sterile region of space shown in the 2003 Battlestar Galactica series.

[6] "Messenger Six" who haunts Baltar, and her counterpart, "Messenger Baltar" who haunts the Cylon, Caprica Six, are two of these Angelii.

[7] ST: TOS, "Who Mourns for Adonais?" By the time Kirk and Co. arrived, only Apollo still survived, the rest having given up hope of humanity's arrival and "spread themselves upon the wind."

[8] Thus becoming the beings shown in the ST: TOS episode, "Errand of Mercy."


	2. Chapter 1

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER ONE

THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 12 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Captain Jonathan Archer, a handsome man of 41 years with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, dressed in the blue jumpsuit and black boots which formed his Starfleet uniform, strode onto the bridge of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, in orbit above an unnamed planet in the Delphic Expanse. For the past several days, Archer and other members of his crew had been involved in an away mission on said planet which had very nearly cost them their lives. As he took his seat in the command chair which occupied the center of the bridge, the captain reflected back on the mission.

The ENTERPRISE had arrived here to find the planet occupied by the descendants of a group of humans who had been abducted from the United States of America, on Earth, in the year 1863. Their abductors, an alien race known as the Skagarans, had intended to use the "primitive" humans as slave labor, and had brought them here, over fifty light years away from Earth, to work for them. But they had not reckoned on the resourcefulness of their human captives. Somehow, under the leadership of a man named Cooper Smith, they had successfully rebelled against their alien captors, destroyed both the starship which had brought them here and all the other advanced alien technology, and recreated a version of late 19th century American society on this alien world.

And, like late 19th century America, that society had some serious flaws. In the aftermath of the rebellion, the surviving Skagarans had been placed under a severely restrictive regime of punitive laws which excluded them from voting or holding political office, did not allow them to get an education or own property, and even forbade them from marrying. Skagarans enjoyed little protection under the law and were frequently the subject of lynchings and other abuse. The Skagarans have it worse here than black people did in the Old South, Archer thought to himself, shaking his head.

But Archer was optimistic that the arrival of the ENTERPRISE here had begun to change all that. They had left behind some educational materials, including some histories of the Earth since the time the ancestors of the local humans had been abducted, and already, these were being taught to both humans and Skagarans in the classrooms on the planet. Already, the local authorities had promised that changes in the law to relax the restrictions on the Skagarans would be made.

Archer smiled and sighed. Looking over at his African-American helmsman, Ensign Travis Mayweather, he said, "Well, we've still got a long way to go to complete our mission. Take us out of orbit, Ensign. Set course for..."

Just at that moment, Commander T'Pol, the attractive female Vulcan who served both as First Officer and Science Officer, spoke up.

"Captain, a small space vessel just appeared off our port warp nacelle."

Archer quickly turned to his left, to face the Science Station where T'Pol was stationed. "It just APPEARED? What do you mean by that? Why didn't we detect its approach until now?"

"Unknown, Captain," T'Pol said. "One moment it wasn't there, and the next moment, it was. I have no explanation."

Archer frowned. "On screen," he said, turning toward the main viewscreen in front of him. The picture changed instantly as T'Pol tapped a control button on her console. Sure enough, there was a small vessel, not much bigger than one of the shuttle pods in ENTERPRISE's own launch bay, hanging there in space just off her port nacelle.

"Hail them, Hoshi, all frequencies," Archer said to the diminutive Japanese Communications Officer, Ensign Hoshi Sato.

"Aye, Sir," Hoshi replied. "Hailing frequencies open."

"This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the United Earth Starship ENTERPRISE," Archer said, his eyes fixed on the strange vessel on the viewscreen. "Please identify yourself. Do you require assistance?"

A bit of static crackled in the bridge speakers, and then a female voice said, "This is Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson of the Colonial Battlestar, GALACTICA. Can you repeat your message?"

Archer looked quickly at Hoshi. "Can you get visual?"

Hoshi shook her head. "No, Captain," she said. "It appears the signal is audio only."

Archer frowned, then replied to Edmondson. "Certainly. I'm Captain Jonathan Archer of the United Earth Starship, ENTERPRISE..."

"United EARTH?" Edmondson asked quickly, cutting him off in mid-sentence. "Did you say EARTH?" Excitement filled her voice.

Archer frowned again, puzzled by the woman's reaction. "Why, yes," he said.

Edmondson yelped like a schoolgirl who'd just been asked to a dance by the cutest boy in school. "Yee-haaah! Thank all the gods!," she exclaimed.

Now Archer was more puzzled than ever. The rest of the bridge crew of the ENTEPRISE looked at each other, mystified. The Captain quickly recovered himself. "Well, thank you," he said bemusedly, "but I'm not sure for what." He smiled again. "Perhaps you'd like to come aboard and explain?"

"The alien vessel should be able to land safely in our launch bay," T'Pol said.

Archer nodded to T'Pol, then turned back to speak to Edmondson. "You can put your ship down in our launch bay. You should see the doors opening on the rear of our vessel now."

"Yes, I see them," Edmondson said. "Thank you, I'll do that. Edmondson out." As Archer watched, the strange alien vessel began to move toward the landing bay.

"Captain, recommend a full security detachment be present to greet them," urged Malcolm Reed, the ever-vigilant British Security and Tactical Officer of the ENTERPRISE.

"Make it so," Archer said, looking over at Reed. "T'Pol, you have the bridge. Malcolm, you're with me," he said as he got up from his chair and headed toward the turbolift doors. "Hoshi, inform Dr. Phlox to meet us in the landing bay. I don't want to take any chances on contamination."

"Aye, Sir," Hoshi said. As the turbolift doors swished shut, Archer heard her say, "Dr. Phlox, please report to the landing bay."

A few minutes later, Archer and Lieutenant Reed, accompanied by Dr. Phlox, the ship's Denobulan doctor, watched as the alien vessel touched down on the landing bay deck. Off to one side, the tall, handsome, but obviously no-nonsense Major Hayes and a small detachment of heavily armed Military Assault Command Operations (MACO) troopers also looked on, ready to respond immediately to any emergency. Archer was impressed by the design of the craft, with its large bubble canopy for good pilot vision, large side door for easy entry, exit, and loading, and large, powerful twin engines at the rear. The vessel was obviously configured for both atmospheric and space flight, and had stubby mini-wings and a twin tail. Unlike the shuttle pods aboard ENTERPRISE, the alien vessel was painted a dull, utilitarian brown, and bore no insignia that he could see.

The vessel's engines shut down, and then the large side door swung upwards. A short gangway lowered to the deck, and Archer watched as Lieutenant Edmondson and her co-pilot stepped down onto the deck. Both were dressed in what were obviously military jumpsuits of unfamiliar cut, complete with life-support helmets with clear visors which covered the faces of the pilots...faces which appeared human to Archer's eyes. Dr. Phlox stepped forward.

"Greetings. My name is Phlox, and I am the ship's physician. If you please, we need to check yourself and your comrade for possible microbial contamination," he said. Pointing to an open hatch to his left, he continued, "If you will step into the decontamination chamber, this won't take long at all."

Edmondson's eyes widened in shock at being confronted by the first obviously non-human alien she had ever seen. "What the frak!" she said, recoiling a bit.

Captain Archer stepped forward, holding up his hands, palm outward, urging calm. "It's all right," he said. "What's wrong?"

"He's...he's not human!" Edmondson blurted.

"You've never encountered non-human races before?" Archer asked, surprised.

Edmondson looked at Archer. "You mean there are...more...like him?"

Phlox laughed. "Oh, dear me," he said. "Yes, there are many more like me. And quite different from me. A multitude of different species, all over the galaxy, in fact."

"In the region of space we come from, there were no other intelligent species," Edmondson said, finally recovering herself. "But of course, there were precious few planets with any life on them at all."

"Very interesting!" Phlox said. "I suppose that does explain your absurd reaction upon seeing me." He laughed again.

Archer laughed as well. "Well, now that you've seen him, I promise, he doesn't bite. And we really do need to get you checked out for contamination. So if you can please do as the doctor asked..."

Edmondson hesitated, then she nodded. "Of course," she said, and stepped through the hatch, followed by her co-pilot. Once inside, she saw that it was a small chamber, lined with luminescent blue panels on each wall. There were two benches along the walls. She and the co-pilot (actually her Electronic Communications Officer, or E.C.O.), Lieutenant Sean Hawkins, sat down in benches facing each other. The hatch door closed behind them, and they heard Dr. Phlox's voice come in through the speakers located next to the hatch.

"I'm going to run a bioscan now," he said. "Just sit comfortably...it won't hurt at all, I promise."

Outside, Phlox watched the display on the bioscanner as the scan was performed. Finally, he smiled. Looking at Captain Archer, he said, "They're fine, Captain. No evidence of contamination."

"Are they human?" Archer asked Phlox quietly.

"Completely, or so it would appear," Phlox said. "The scan reveals no anatomical differences at all."

Archer nodded. "Looks like you check out," he said into the microphone next to the bioscanner. "We're going to open the hatch now."

Phlox smiled again, and pressed the button to release the locks on the hatch. Archer swung the door open, and then stepped back to let the occupants of the chamber emerge again. Archer offered his hand.

"I'm Captain Archer," he said. "Welcome aboard the ENTERPRISE."

Edmondson and Hawkins took off their helmets, cradling them in the crook of their left arms. Archer saw that Edmondson was an attractive woman, with short, dark brown hair, olive skin and brown eyes, while her co-pilot was a black male. Edmondson smiled and took the Captain's hand. "Thank you, Captain," she said. "It's a pleasure to be here. This is my E.C.O., Lieutenant Hawkins."

Archer nodded to Hawkins. "Lieutenant, good to meet you," he said, offering his hand. Hawkins took it. Then, seeing the watchful look on the face of Major Hayes, Archer smiled. "Major, I think you can dismiss your men. I don't think they plan to shoot up the launch bay."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Hayes said formally. Turning to his men, he said, "Detail dismissed!" He followed them off of the landing deck.

"Allow me to extend the hospitality of this vessel," Captain Archer said, smiling. "Are you hungry? I hear Chef is serving pot roast tonight. It's one of his best dishes. Would you join me?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malcolm wince. Malcolm still groused about the time, just over a year ago, when Chef served nothing but pot roast for three days straight while the crew had been forced to seek refuge in the maintenance shaft of one of the ship's inactive warp nacelles for over a week during a neutronic storm. He hadn't touched the stuff for months afterward, and still didn't relish the dish.

Edmondson and Hawkins smiled. "Thank you, Captain," she said. "We'd love to."

Soon afterward, the Captain and Lieutenant Edmondson, with Malcolm and Lieutenant Hawkins, sat down together at one of the tables in the Mess Hall on the starboard side of E-Deck. Edmondson took a tentative bite of her pot roast, and her eyes lit up. "Mmmm," she said. "This is really good!" She dug in with relish.

Archer smiled. "I'll tell Chef you liked it," he said. He took a bite of his own meal, then looked up at Edmondson again. "Now, you were going to explain why you were so happy to see us."

Edmondson stopped eating, and swallowed her food with a gulp. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she said, "Yes! We've been looking for Earth for the past eight months! I still can't believe we've found you!"

Archer sat back in his chair. "You've been looking for Earth? May I ask why?"

Edmondson's face clouded. A tear ran down one cheek. "Because you're our last hope," she said.

Archer could not hide his shock as he stared back at Edmondson, a stunned look on his face. Finally, he said, "Please continue."

And Edmondson did continue. Archer listened in amazement as she told of twelve worlds, in a distant part of the galaxy thousands of light years away from the Earth, whose people, along with those of the Earth, had all originated on a world known as Kobol. He listened with horror as she detailed what had happened, just over eight months ago, to those worlds, all home to billions of humans like himself, whose populations had been virtually exterminated in a single day in a dastardly surprise attack by a vicious race of artificial lifeforms known as the Cylons. He marveled at the harrowing tale of the escape of a mere fifty thousand refugees, aboard every space vessel which would carry them and protected by the sole surviving warship of the powerful space fleet which had formerly defended those doomed worlds, and of their search for the legendary planet known as Earth...home of what they believed to be the only remaining humans in the universe besides themselves. He heard of the pursuit of this ragtag fleet by the Cylons, and the brave battles against overwhelming odds fought by the survivors as they made their escape.

"So you see, your people really are the last hope of the human race in the universe," Edmondson said. "If you can't help us...or if you won't..." she began, then stopped, shaking her head, unable to continue. She wiped more tears from her cheeks.

Archer sat silently, absolutely stunned by what he had just heard. Malcolm, who had also listened to the tale, shook his head in disbelief. He looked at Archer.

"Captain, this can't be true," he said harshly, a frown on his face. Then his face softened. "Can it?"

"I don't know, Malcolm," Archer said quietly. He looked back at Edmondson. "How did you get here?" he asked. "If your home worlds were as far away as you say, even at maximum warp, it would take decades, maybe centuries, to get here from there."

"Maximum Warp?" Edmondson asked. "I've never heard that terminology before."

"You don't have Warp Drive?" Archer asked, shocked. Seeing the young lieutenant's mystified look, he said, "Our vessels are powered by engines which warp space in a way which allows us to travel at many times the speed of light. We call it Warp Drive. It was invented by a man named Zefram Cochrane nearly a century ago."

"No," Edmondson said. "We don't have anything like that. We do have faster-than-light travel, but it's done differently."

"Differently?" Malcolm said, fascinated now. "How?"

"Well, it's hard to explain," Edmondson said. "Basically our engines create an artificial singularity...a quasi-wormhole, I guess you'd call it...which allows the ship to travel distances measured in light years, instantaneously. We call it 'Jump Drive,' because the ship basically 'jumps' from one star system to another."

"That's impossible!" Malcolm blurted out.

Archer shook his head. "No, Malcolm, I believe she's telling the truth about that." He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "That would explain how you suddenly appeared out of nowhere, without our detecting your approach," he said.

A thoughtful look came over Malcolm's face. "You're right, Sir, it would! I'd forgotten about that!"

"Can you take Malcolm and I back with you when you return to your fleet?" Archer asked Edmondson. "We'd like to see this 'Jump Drive' of yours in action, and it would allow us to gauge the veracity of the rest of your story."

"But what about our mission here, Sir?" Malcolm asked.

Archer looked at Malcolm. "I think we can delay our departure from here for another couple of days," Archer replied. He looked back at Edmondson. "What do you say?"

Edmondson grinned. "We'd love to, Captain."

Archer looked at Malcolm and grinned. "Well, Malcolm, it looks like we're going on a Road Trip."

Malcolm smiled weakly in return. "Yes, Sir," he said.

E


	3. Chapter 2

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER TW

SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT VOID, THE BETA QUADRANT, DAY 270 AFTER THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (13 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

In the Combat Information Center (C.I.C.) of the Battlestar GALACTICA, Admiral William Adama was conferring with his Executive Officer (X.O.), Colonel Saul Tigh, when they were interrupted by the GALACTICA's youthful, dark haired and olive-skinned Tactical Officer, Felix Gaeta. Urgency filled Gaeta's voice.

"Admiral," Gaeta said, "Contact just picked up on DRADIS."

Adama, a stocky, dark-haired and olive-skinned man dressed in the black dress uniform he customarily wore, turned his head quickly turned toward Gaeta, a hard look on his face. _All we need now, in the middle of a search and rescue mission to Caprica, is to have the Cylons drop in for a visit,_he thought to himself. "Identify!" he barked.

Gaeta's face showed his deep concentration as he studied his DRADIS screen. Then he looked up, his face a mask of surprise. "It's Racetrack's Raptor," he said. "We weren't expecting her back for another day."

The Communications Officer, Petty Officer Anastasia Dualla, an attractive young and light-complected black woman dressed in a green enlisted service jump suit, turned to Adama and spoke up, her hand clasped to the ear piece of her headset so as to hear the incoming transmission over the constant din in the C.I.C. "Receiving a message from Racetrack, Admiral. Apparently there was a malfunction with her jump computers and her Raptor jumped to the wrong coordinates." Then a surprised look came onto her face as well. "She says she's brought guests back with her...she'll introduce them to you in the landing bay!"

Colonel Tigh, a tall man with a balding head of gray hair, frowned fiercely. "What the frak is that about?" he growled. "Put that on speaker!"

"Yes, Sir!," Dualla said as she pressed the appropriate buttons on her console.

"Lieutenant Edmondson, who are these guests?" Tigh demanded.

A strange male voice suddenly came though the bridge speakers.

"I didn't intend to get your Lieutenant here in hot water," the voice said. "I'm Captain Jonathan Archer of the United Earth Starship, ENTERPRISE."

In the GALACTICA's C.I.C., the drop of a pin would have sounded like a thunderclap at that moment. The assembled officers stood at their posts, looking at each other, dumbstruck. Finally, Admiral Adama spoke up.

"Racetrack," he said, a wide grin on his face, "I'll meet you on the landing bay." Instantly, the C.I.C. erupted in pandemonium as officers exchanged hugs, laughter, and tears of joy. Adama walked over to Dualla. "Inform President Roslin on Colonial One. I think she'll want to meet our guests, too."

"Yes, Sir!," Dualla said, a silly grin on her face. "Yes, Sir!"

A few minutes later, Adama stood on the landing deck with Colonel Tigh, watching as Racetrack's Raptor touched down. Despite orders to keep the arrival of the Earthlings under wraps for the time being, word had gotten out through the proverbial grapevine, as it always does, and a sizable crowd of deck hands, pilots, and other GALACTICA personnel had gathered to witness this momentous event and were jostling with each other for a better view. A cordon of GALACTICA'S marines held them back, well away from the Raptor.

The Raptor's side door swung upwards, and the gangway touched down onto the deck. The first out were Lieutenants Edmondson and Hawkins. Then Adama saw two men, one with blonde, sandy hair and blue eyes, and one with wavy, dark brown hair and dark eyes. Both were dressed in military uniforms consisting of dark blue jumpsuits and black boots, with strange braiding and insignia on the shoulders and sleeves. Adama stepped forward.

"Welcome aboard the GALACTICA," he said, smiling. "I'm Admiral Adama."

Archer stepped forward and offered his hand, which Adama took. "I'm Captain Archer," he said. "We're happy to be here. We look forward to learning more about your people."

Adama looked at Racetrack, who had removed her helmet and was standing nearby. She grinned.

"I told Dualla you'd want to meet them," she said, and winked.

Adama, almost overcome with emotion, stepped over to her, a tear running out of his left eye. Suddenly he took her in his arms in a warm embrace, hugging her tightly. When he finally let her go, he playfully ruffled her hair, a broad smile on his craggy face. "Good job, Margaret," he said, wiping away the tears. "Good job."

At that, the crowd, which had been watching this scene in complete silence, erupted into a huge cheer. Adama turned back to Archer.

"This is my X.O., Colonel Saul Tigh," he said.

Tigh stepped forward and took Archer's hand. "We're very pleased to meet you, all of us," he said.

Archer smiled. Turning to his companion, he said, "This is my Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed." Reed stepped forward and shook hands with Adama and Tigh.

As he did so, there was another commotion in the crowd, and they turned to see the marines forcing open a path through the gawkers to allow President Laura Roslin, a middle-aged but still attractive woman with fair skin and shoulder-length auburn hair, wearing a fashionable black business dress and glasses perched on her nose which made her look like a school teacher...which, in fact, she had been, before entering politics many years ago. She was accompanied by her secretary and personal aide, Tory Foster, a lovely but diminutive young woman who was dressed, like Roslin, in a black business dress and whose olive skin, dark eyes, and long, dark hair gave her, to Archer's eyes, a vaguely middle-eastern or South Asian appearance. Adama spoke to her as she approached.

Gesturing toward the Earthlings, he said formally, "Madame President, allow me to introduce the representatives of Earth, Captain Jonathan Archer and his Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed."

Roslin smiled brightly. Offering her hand to Archer, she said, "I can't begin to tell you how glad we are to finally meet with representatives of Earth. What was once, to us, only legend, has now become reality. This is a great day. A great day!" Once again, the watching crowd cheered wildly.

"Let us retire to a more comfortable setting, Admiral," Roslin said to Adama. "I'm sure the Captain has many questions, as we do of him."

"I agree," Adama said. He turned to go. "Come with me," he said. Followed by Roslin, Tigh, Foster, Archer, and Reed, Adama left the landing bay.

A short time later, the group was gathered in the senior officer's mess. Seated around a table, they made small talk as the mess stewards served their meal. Once the stewards left, Admiral Adama held up his glass of ambrosia. "To Earth!" he said, before taking a sip.

Archer looked at the greenish liquid in his glass with curiosity, then responded, "To friendship!" He took a tentative drink, then smacked his lips. "Mmmm," he said. "That's quite good. I've never tasted anything quite like it. What is it called?"

"Ambrosia," Adama said..

"One of the Twelve Colonies' greatest achievements," said Colonel Tigh, a sad look on his face. "Unfortunately, there's very little of it left among the fleet."

"Well, I'm honored that you chose to share some with us today," Archer replied, smiling.

"Believe me when I tell you that the honor is all ours," President Roslin said, raising her own glass and taking a sip.

"Admiral, I must say, your warships, GALACTICA and PEGASUS, are most impressive," Archer said. "Based on what I saw during our approach, you could probably fit four or five of my own vessel inside either one of them."

"Really?" Adama asked with interest. "Doesn't Earth have anything like a Battlestar?"

"Oh, we have warships, but nothing on this scale," Archer said. He set his glass down and looked at Roslin. "I understand that you've been looking for Earth, hoping to seek refuge there from a race of artificial lifeforms called the Cylons who destroyed your worlds, about eight months ago. Is that correct?"

Roslin set her own glass down. Looking into Archer's eyes, she nodded. "Yes, that is correct."

Archer's face assumed a serious cast. "Well, I must tell you, you may have jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. The Earth is in great danger as well, from an alien race known as the Xindi." He sighed. "We've learned that the Xindi intend to exterminate the human race, because they've somehow concluded that humanity will, at some time in the future, destroy them. Even now, they are building some kind of super weapon which they intend to use to carry out their genocidal scheme."

Roslin sat back in her chair, stunned. "By all the gods," she said finally. She looked back at Archer. "We'd like to help you, if we can. Our two peoples are all that is left of humanity in the universe. We should stand together."

"I'm sure the government of United Earth would be grateful for that," Archer said. "Unfortunately we have no way to communicate with them right now, as there are no subspace amplifiers in the Delphic Expanse, where we are currently engaged in a mission to find the Xindi, and if possible, stop them from carrying out their plans."

"Subspace?" Colonel Tigh asked.

"That's right, you communicate with standard radio waves over normal space, don't you?" Archer said, smiling. "My communications officer told me that she almost didn't pick up Lieutenant Edmondson's response to our hails because it came in on an old-style radio band." He looked back at Adama. "From what I understand after speaking to your Lieutenant Edmondson, our technology is quite different from yours."

"How so?," asked President Roslin.

"Well," Archer said, "propulsion for one thing. Our ships have impulse engines which can propel us at any speed up to the speed of light, and warp drive which can propel us at many times the speed of light over extended periods of time. Therefore travel time between star systems, for us, is measured in days, weeks, or even months or years, depending on the distance. But while you have technology which allows you to jump instantaneously from one star system to another, you don't have the capability to travel more than very low sublight speeds when not using your FTL drives. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Adama said.

Malcolm Reed had been listening to the conversation in between bites of food, and hearing the subject of technology come up, his interest was piqued. "Admiral," he said, "I noticed, as we approached your vessel, that there were numerous batteries of some sort of weapon distributed along the length of the ship. May I ask what sort of weapons those were?"

Adama and Tigh looked at each other suspiciously, and neither answered immediately. Seeing that, Archer quickly said to President Roslin, "If we are going to consider a joint defense against our enemies, we should know each other's capabilities, don't you think?"

Roslin considered the question for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I quite agree, Captain. We've got to trust each other." She looked at Adama. "Please tell the Captain what he wishes to know, Admiral, Colonel." She looked back at Archer. "As indeed, I am sure the Captain will do in return."

"Of course," Archer said, smiling. He picked up his glass of ambrosia again. "To trust! The essential basis of our new friendship!"

"To trust!," the others repeated, taking drinks from their own glasses.

Adama sighed in turn. "All right, then. Trust." He looked at Tigh again, who was still looking with suspicion at the Earthlings. Then he looked back at Reed. "Lieutenant, the weapons you saw were our defensive gun batteries. They are kinetic energy weapons firing solid slugs and explosive shells."

Reed sat back in his chair, a surprised look on his face. "You mean something like a railgun?" he asked.

"Railgun?" Colonel Tigh asked.

"A gun which uses electro-magnetic rails to hurl projectiles at extremely high speeds," Archer said.

"No," Tigh said. "We don't have that sort of technology."

"You mean..." Malcolm began, scarcely believing what he was hearing. "You mean, the projectiles are CHEMICALLY propelled?"

"Yes, of course," Adama replied, a puzzled look on his face. "Why is that important?"

Archer and Reed looked at each other. Then Archer looked back at Adama. "On Earth, chemically-propelled projectile weapons went out of use in our military...well...a long time ago."

"What do you use now?" Tigh asked, amazed.

"Well, we use directed energy weapons now," Reed said.

"Directed energy weapons?" Tigh asked.

"Weapons that discharge directed beams or pulses of energy that travel at the speed of light," Reed replied. "There are several kinds in use in the galaxy, including lasers, plasma weapons, disruptors, and phased energy weapons. Starfleet recently began replacing its old plasma weapons with phased energy weapons." Seeing the blank stares on the faces of Tigh and Adama, he said, "You don't have that technology either, I take it."

Adama shook his head. "No."

Archer and Reed looked at each other again. _Can their technology really be that backwards? _Archer thought to himself. _How did they manage to achieve something as advanced as FTL jump drive? _He looked back at Adama. "Are your ships equipped with any other kind of weapons?"

Adama nodded. "Of course," he said. "Our battlestars are equipped with long-range missiles armed with conventional and nuclear warheads, as well as squadrons of fighter craft armed with automatic cannon and guided missiles."

"And these missiles...they are chemically propelled?" Archer asked.

"Yes, of course," Adama replied, frowning. "Don't you use anything similar?"

"We have torpedoes with anti-matter warheads which are capable of traveling at light speed and more," Archer said.

"Antimatter?" Adama asked.

"Like Earth technology, a century or more ago," Reed said quietly, shaking his head in wonder. Archer just sat silently for a moment, taking it all in.

"Well, Admiral, Madame President," Archer said finally, "That presents a problem. I understand that this region of space is relatively lifeless, and that your people have never encountered any non-human intelligent species before. That is not the case in our part of the galaxy. Our part of the galaxy is filled with a multitude of intelligent, non-human races, each with its own agenda. Some are friendly, but many of them are not, and some are downright hostile. Against virtually any space-faring race in our region of the galaxy, your vessels would be nearly defenseless. The Xindi would destroy you, if you encountered them. And there are other races out there which we've encountered who would think nothing of plundering your fleet for everything of value and leaving your people to die in space."

President Roslin's blood ran cold as she listened. "What can we do?" she asked. "We can't go back the way we came. The Cylons are still in pursuit of our fleet."

"Do Cylon vessels have capabilities and weaponry similar to yours?" Archer asked.

"Yes," Adama said. "Although their FTL Jump Drive is a bit more advanced than ours."

Archer rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "All right," Archer said finally. "What I would suggest is the following. If your fleet can jump to the present coordinates of my own vessel, I can then give you the coordinates of the Sol System, where Earth is located. You should be able to cover that distance in a single jump, based on what your lieutenant told me, and avoid any contact with other alien races." He smiled. "If the Cylons come after you, Starfleet can most likely protect you."

"But you said you had no way to communicate with them to let them know about us," Adama said. "How would they react to our sudden arrival in their star system?"

"I'll send one of my officers with you, with a subspace transmitter and a recorded message of introduction from me," Archer replied. "As soon as you enter the Sol System, you'll transmit the message to Starfleet." He smiled.

"Do you have the authority to make such a decision, Captain?" President Roslin asked.

Archer grinned. "Well, as the commander of the only Earth forces presence in the Delphic Expanse, that gives me a considerable degree of discretion," he said. "I'm sure Starfleet Command, and the government of United Earth, will have questions, once they receive the message. But my officer will be there to help you answer them." He sat back and sighed. "I'd go with you myself, but unfortunately, I can't abandon my mission right now. Earth's very existence is at stake."

"I understand," Roslin said. "However, before you extend such an offer, let me ask you something. Lieutenant Edmondson told you that the Cylons were artificial lifeforms, and that they had attacked and destroyed our worlds. Did she tell you the exact circumstances surrounding that attack?"

"No," Archer said, leaning forward with interest.

"Then there is something that you must know," Roslin said. "The Cylons are, as Lieutenant Edmondson told you, artificial lifeforms. Originally they were robotic in nature...one of our nicknames for them was "Chrome Toasters," referring to their bright metallic bodies. But over the past forty years they have developed a type of biological Cylon which can pass as human. Espionage and sabotage carried out by some of these biological Cylons, who had infiltrated the society of the Twelve Colonies, caused the collapse of our defense systems when the Cylons attacked. When we fled into space, some of these infiltrators went with us. We have discovered and eliminated several of them. And although we are not certain, we have reason to believe that there may still be Cylon infiltrators among the population of our fleet." She cleared her throat. "If your people take us in, you run the risk of introducing these Cylon infiltrators into your own society."

Archer sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. He looked back at Roslin. "Were you not able to detect these Cylons in any fashion...some sort of medical test?"

"Our facilities for medical testing aboard the fleet are very limited," Adama said. "Basically our people fled the Colonies with whatever we could grab in a hurry. The sickbays aboard our Battlestars are fairly basic, since they were intended to operate in a fairly small area around the Twelve Colonies and it was expected that sick and wounded would be transferred to fully equipped on-planet facilities within a short time. One of our scientists, Dr. Baltar, attempted to build a Cylon Detector which analyzed blood samples for synthetic elements, but the test took many hours to perform for each sample and ended up being useless anyway. One of the Cylons who the test failed to catch later attempted to assassinate me."

"Well, I can have Dr. Phlox take a look at the problem," Archer said. "Our facilities aboard ENTERPRISE are fairly advanced...not as advanced as those you'd find on Earth or at a Starbase, mind you, but very good. Do you have any samples of confirmed Cylon blood on hand?"

"Yes," Adama said. "Dr. Cottle has them in cold storage in Sick Bay."

"All right," Archer said. "Can you send Lieutenant Reed back to ENTERPRISE with these samples so Phlox can get started? I know you have a Search and Rescue mission going on right now and your fleet won't be able to leave this vicinity immediately."

"That's correct," Adama said.

"Okay," Archer said. "That gives us a little time to see what can be done about the Cylon issue."

"What if your Dr. Phlox is no more successful than our Dr. Baltar was in detecting these...vermin?" Roslin asked.

"Well," Archer said, "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I still think that once you get to Earth, the government will be very interested in your FTL jump technology," Archer said. "And since your people have the know-how to build and operate that technology, and we don't, I'm sure they'd be willing to run the risk of a few Cylon infiltrators in order to acquire it. If you can give us a detailed account of exactly how the Cylons deactivated your defense systems, that would be helpful too in designing countermeasures to ensure that this doesn't happen on Earth. They may wish to quarantine your people aboard their ships until everyone can be screened and any Cylon infiltrators are filtered out, however. So you might want to be prepared for such an eventuality."

Roslin nodded. "A very sensible precaution, and one we'd certainly have no problem agreeing with," she replied. She looked deep into Archer's eyes. ""Is there _anything _we can do to help you with your mission, to show our good faith?"

"Yes, I think so," Archer said. "The vessel your Lieutenant Edmondson used to reach the Delphic expanse...do you have more of them?"

"You mean our Raptors?" Adama replied. "Yes, of course."

"I think those ships could greatly speed up our exploration of the Delphic Expanse," Archer said. "The faster we can find the Xindi, the better."

"They are at your disposal. How many of them would you require?" Adama replied.

"Unfortunately, I don't believe we could hold more than two of them in our shuttlepod bays," Archer said. "But even that would be of great help."

"Then you shall have them," President Roslin said firmly. "Thank you, Captain. You have no idea what this means to us. Although, as you say, we may be jumping from the frying pan into the fire, given Earth's own troubles at the moment, this is the first true ray of hope our people have had...well, since the fall of the Colonies."

Archer smiled. "Well, as you say, we humans should stand together." He raised his glass. "To hope! For all of us!"

"So say we all," Adama said, picking up his glass of ambrosia and draining it in a single gulp. "So say we all!"

O


	4. Chapter 3

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER THREE

THE U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, IN THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 14 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Doctor Phlox was in sickbay, feeding the menagerie of alien animals which he used to assist him in treating his patients. He stopped in front of the cage of his Pyrithian Bat. The creature fluttered up from its perch, seeming to hover in mid-air in front of the feeding port. Phlox smiled.

"Yes, you know it's feeding time, don't you?" he said softly. He opened the feeding port door and held up a fat snow beetle. The bat moved forward and, rather daintily, plucked the beetle from Phlox's fingers. Phlox smiled again.

"Is that good?" Phlox asked the creature. "What is that word the humans use...is it...yummy?"

The bat just looked back at him expectantly, rapidly flapping its leathery wings to maintain its position in front of the port. Phlox sighed. "I sometimes wonder what you're thinking, in that tiny brain of yours. 'Feed me more,' at the moment, I expect." He held out a moth larvae, and the bat plucked it away. He fed the bat another beetle and another larvae, then closed the port.

"That's all for you this evening," Phlox said.

In response, the bat fluttered away to its perch again, and alighted, with its back to Phlox and its head down. "Oh, that's how it is, eh?" Phlox said, chuckling. "You've got what you want, and now I get...how do the humans put it...the cold shoulder?" The bat said nothing. Phlox chuckled again and went about feeding the rest of his menagerie.

As he did so, he heard a hissing noise as the door to sickbay slid open. T'Pol, accompanied by Lieutenant Reed, came in. Phlox noticed that Reed was carrying what looked like a medical transport case of some kind.

"Doctor," T'Pol said, "Lieutenant Reed has just returned, and has brought back some blood samples and a recorded message from the Captain. The Captain needs you to test the samples without delay."

Phlox stepped forward and took the medical case. Stepping over to a nearby counter, he set it down and opened it. Several sealed, old-fashioned glass vials of red liquid were inside, packed in ice. He looked at T'Pol.

"What will I be testing them for?" he asked. "A pathogen of some kind?"

"No," T'Pol said. She looked at Reed. "Lieutenant Reed knows more about this than I."

"Captain Archer said this must remain between the three of us," Malcolm said. "No one else must know, at least for now."

Phlox's eyes widened a bit. T'Pol just nodded impassively...she had seen the recording from Captain Archer which said the same thing.

"Certainly," Phlox said. "My lips, as you humans say, are sealed." He walked over and pressed the button to secure the sickbay doors and prevent anyone from inconveniently entering while Malcolm was relaying his evidently sensitive information. "We have privacy now. Please continue."

Malcolm looked from Phlox to T'Pol, then back again. "Doctor, have you heard the story about the artificial lifeforms who destroyed the home worlds of the humans we encountered here yesterday?"

"Yes," Phlox said, nodding, smiling. "This is a small ship, as you know."

"Well," Malcolm continued, "the Cylons...that's what they're called...it turns out that they aren't _entirely_ artificial. Or at least, not entirely mechanical, as we were led to believe. Although some of them are mechanical...robotic...in nature, there are others who are biological in nature and can pass as human." He sighed. "Apparently these biological...things...were responsible for the destruction of those planets. They infiltrated the human society there and conducted sabotage which deactivated the defense systems protecting the planets and allowed a surprise attack to succeed, with little loss to the attackers."

T'Pol's right eyebrow rose. "Fascinating," she said. "I can see why the Captain wishes this to remain a secret at this time."

"And these blood samples," Phlox said, "were taken from some of these artificial biological lifeforms?"

"Yes," Malcolm said. "The Captain wants you to analyze them and see if you can determine a way to distinguish between a biological Cylon and a real human. Preferably one that can be used to test large numbers of people quickly. There are nearly 50,000 people over there and some of them may be Cylon agents. We've got to be able to find them. The Captain is going to give them the coordinates of Earth."

"Is he sure that's wise?" T'Pol asked, surprised. "Were not these...Cylons...pursuing the human refugees? What if they should find Earth?"

Reed smiled. "Well, that's the one bright spot in all this. It turns out, that in nearly every category except propulsion, the technology possessed by the Colonials...that's what they call themselves...is a century or more behind ours. The Cylons possess nearly identical technology. So the Captain is confident that Starfleet can defend Earth, if the Cylons come. But he considers the FTL Jump technology possessed by the Colonials to be of such great importance that he believes that regardless of the risk, we must send these people on to Earth."

"Nevertheless," T'Pol said, "Cylon agents could cause much damage on Earth, left undetected."

"Yes," Reed said, a sober look on his face. "And that's why we've got to find them. Preferably BEFORE the Colonial Fleet is sent to Earth."

"How long do I have?," Phlox said, closing the medical case and carrying it over to his laboratory.

"We're not sure," Reed said. "A few days certainly, possibly a week. The Colonials are currently engaged in a Search and Rescue mission on a planet over two thousand light years away from their current position. The fleet won't leave its present coordinates until that mission returns, not unless its an extreme emergency."

T'Pol walked over to Phlox, followed by Reed. "Do you have any ideas as to where to begin your analysis?" she asked.

"I think so," Phlox said. "I had considered running standard DNA scans, which should be able to detect differences between Cylon and human DNA, assuming there are any. But that would have to be done here in my medlab, and for obvious reasons would be impractical for testing large numbers of people at once. Therefore, I think the best approach would be to to create a computer model of the physiology of these biological Cylons, using DNA from the blood samples. I will then test the reaction of that physiology to various compounds which are known to affect humans in a particular way. If I can find one which affects humans but does not affect the Cylons, or vice verse, we may be able to use that to administer a test to large numbers of people at once, simply by exposing them to the compound." He chuckled. "Provided that the reaction is not fatal, of course."[1]

Reed grinned. "That's good, Doctor. That's very good."

T'Pol's reaction was less overt. "Very well, Doctor," she said calmly. "Please proceed. Keep me informed as to your progress."

"Certainly," the doctor said, smiling. "I'll begin immediately."

[1] Phlox's ability to create such computer models was shown when he created a fairly accurate model of a Reptilian Xindi from a biological sample recovered from the Xindi probe. Phlox was considered one of the greatest medical minds in the known galaxy during this period...even the brilliant Arik Soong considered him his equal. And we do know that there are certain pathogens and forms of radiation which affect Cylons and not humans...so its possible that there are chemical compounds that do likewise, although the Colonials never stumbled across them.

THE COLONIAL FLEET, SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT BETA QUADRANT VOID, DAY 271 AFTER THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (14 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

Aboard Battlestar GALACTICA, Gaius Baltar was in his quarters, watching a broadcast of "The Colonial Gang" on Talk Wireless, the news and information system serving the Colonial Fleet. James McManus, a man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes who had formerly reported for the _Caprica Times_, was speaking.

"The announcement, earlier today, of first contact with a vessel from Earth, came as a huge shock to the people of the Colonial Fleet," he said.

"But a welcome shock," interjected Playa Palacios, an attractive woman with shoulder-length blonde hair who had once served as a columnist for the _Picon Star-Tribune_.

"A very welcome shock, indeed," agreed Sekou Hamilton, the former editor of the _Aerelon Gazette_.

"But can we really trust Laura Roslin when she says we've actually made first contact with Earth?" McManus asked. "This could very well be a ploy designed to give her an upper hand in the upcoming Presidential election."

Palacios rolled her eyes, then shook her head. "Do you honestly believe that President Roslin would _make up_ a story like that? You can't be serious!"

"Besides, after his lackluster performance in the Presidential Debate two nights ago, Gaius Baltar's candidacy is basically dead! Baltar is an empty suit when it comes to matters of substantial policy." Hamilton agreed.

"I'm not sure I'd agree with that, Sekou," McManus said. "Baltar's position regarding the abortion issue has gained him a lot of support lately, so don't count him out just yet. I'm just saying that we can't just accept Laura Roslin's word at face value, when she has every political motive to dissemble. How do we know these supposed visitors she spoke of are really from Earth, anyway? Just because she says so?"

Baltar turned off his video screen. He heard behind him the voice of the angel who appeared to him, in his mind, as the beautiful blonde Cylon with whom he'd carried on a sexual affair on Caprica, before the fall of the Colonies.

"They're right, you know," she said. "This will give Roslin the election."

"But what about my stance on the abortion issue?" Baltar asked, turning to face his tormenter, who was dressed in his favorite red dress and sat, with her legs crossed demurely, on the corner of his bed. "Surely that must mean something."

"Not when Earth is at hand," the Cylon.

"You mean Roslin is telling the truth?" Baltar exclaimed. "We really _have_ made contact with Earth?"

"Yes," the angel said.

"Well...thats...wonderful, I suppose," Baltar said uncertainly. "Isn't it?" He sat down on the bed beside the angel. "Humanity is saved...and all of that. I never wanted to be President anyway."

The beautiful image of his Cylon lover laughed mockingly. "No, you're completely selfish, Gaius. Which is why God chose you as his instrument."

"What do you mean?" Gaius said sharply. "You're not making any sense."

The angel laughed again, merrily. "God does not have to explain Himself to you," she said. She slipped down off the bed and onto her knees in front of him. She began undoing this waistbelt, before unsnapping and unzipping his trousers. She took his manhood in her soft, silky hand and began to stroke it. "But you will carry out His Will, won't you, Gaius?" she said softly, before taking him in her mouth. Baltar began to moan. "Oh, yes," he managed. "Yes..."

The sudden buzzing of the door chime shattered the illusion, and Baltar found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, with his pants unzipped and his hand wrapped around...he quickly let go of himself and stood up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and zipping himself up. Wiping his hand on his trousers, he went to the door and opened it. His campaign manager and running mate, stocky, dark-haired Tom Zarek, stood outside.

"Have you heard?" Zarek said, pushing his way past Baltar into the room.

"Yes...yes, I have," Baltar said, going to the bed again and sitting down. "Isn't it wonderful news?"

Zarek looked at him with disbelief. "Wonderful?," he hissed. "Wonderful! It's a disaster!" He paced back and forth across the floor. "There's no way we can win now."

Baltar could feel the angel behind him, her hot breath on his neck. "There's still a way..." she said.

"To win the election?" Baltar asked looking around at her.

"Of course the election!," Tom Zarek exclaimed. "What the frak do you think I'm talking about? What are you looking at, anyway?"

"Nothing," Baltar said quickly, turning back to Zarek. "Nothing at all."

"The election isn't important," the angel said into Baltar's ear. "God's plan is what is important."

Baltar looked up at Zarek. "The election isn't important now," he said.

Zarek stopped pacing, looking at Baltar with curiosity. "What do you mean, it's not important," he said. "What are you thinking?"

"We've made contact with Earth," Baltar said as the angel whispered in his ear. "Even if President Roslin wins, she won't be President for long. The Scrolls...predict...that she won't live to see the promised land." His eyes widened, then he quickly looked back at the angel, before looking at Zarek again. "Don't they?"

"Hmmm," Zarek said. "They do, at that. But surely you don't believe in that superstitious religious felgercarb."

"Well, the prophecies have been remarkably accurate up until now," Baltar said quickly. He nervously straightened his tie.

Zarek sat down in Baltar's chair, in front of his computer terminal. He sat back and rubbed his chin, deep in thought. Then a slow smile came over his face.

The angel smiled as she watched Zarek's face. "He understands," she whispered to Baltar.

"Understands what?," he whispered back.

"Did you say something, Dr. Baltar?" Zarek asked, suddenly snapped out of his own reverie.

"No," Baltar said, loudly clearing his throat. "Throat's just a little dry, that's all."

Zarek suddenly said, "It occurs to me that I have some overdue business which needs attending to. Excuse me, Doctor." He stood up and, without a further word, left Baltar's quarters.

"What was that about?" Baltar said, turning to confront the angel. "What did you mean, he understands?"

The beautiful apparition of his lost Cylon lover smiled slyly. "Do you not recall your Scriptures, Gaius?"

"Not all of them," Gaius said, a puzzled look on his face.

The angel laughed at him.

"The gods help those who help themselves."


	5. Chapter 4

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER FOUR

_U.S.S. ENTERPRISE_, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 15 OCTOBER 2153

In the shuttlepod launch bay of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker, with Lieutenant Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson, were in the process of examining the Raptor in which Edmondson had brought back Lieutenant Reed and the samples of Cylon DNA which were being studied by Dr. Phlox in the hope of creating a viable Cylon Detector. So far, Trip was finding himself impressed...and not always in a good way.

_Sure, this thing can jump from star system to star system,_ he thought to himself. _But what will it do once it gets there? Its sublight engines can't even push it up to a quarter impulse. And the FTL engine has to be cooled down for several minutes before it can jump again. If the poor saps flying this thing run into the Xindi when they jump into a star system, they'll be sitting ducks. _

He knew the Captain's message had mentioned that he had obtained the use of two of these craft from the Colonials...this one and another to arrive later...for use in searching for the Xindi. But as it stood, he couldn't recommend that, not at all. He looked over at Lieutenant Edmondson, who was watching him with curiosity as he stood, looking at the Raptor, deep in thought.

"What do you think of her, Commander?" Racetrack asked.

"Well...the FTL engine is sure impressive," Trip said. He didn't want to hurt this young woman's feelings. For one thing, she was quite attractive, and he tried not to piss off attractive women when he could avoid it. For another, she seemed like a tough, feisty thing...not unlike his sister. If he DID piss her off, he was more than a little afraid that she might just break his nose.

Racetrack could sense the hesitation in his voice. "I can hear a 'but' coming," she said.

"Well," Tucker said again. He cleared his throat. "Well, I have concerns."

"Go on," Racetrack encouraged. "I'm a big girl. I can take it." She grinned.

Her smile put him a bit at ease...at least more than he had been...and Trip laid it all out for her.

"Lieutenant...may I call you Margaret? I go by 'Trip,' by the way," Tucker said.

"Of course...Trip," Racetrack said, smiling again.

"Margaret, the problem is the sublight engines," Tucker said. "Our shuttlepods have impulse drive which can propel them at any speed, up to the speed of light. Even then, we often get into situations we can't escape from. I am concerned that if your vessel were to jump into a system occupied by the Xindi, and it was discovered during the cooling down period necessary for the FTL engines..."

Racetrack nodded. "I see what you mean. No, that would not be good." She sighed. "We couldn't run, and we couldn't hide. Our bacon would be cooked."

"I'm also concerned by the sensors," Tucker continued. "They seem to be a lot less sensitive than ours."

"I see," Edmondson said. "How sensitive are your sensors?"

"Sensitive enough to differentiate between human and non-human lifesigns from orbit, given optimal scanning conditions," Tucker said.

Racetrack whistled. "That's...amazing," she said.

"Don't get me wrong," Tucker said, looking quickly over at Racetrack. "Your sensors are very good at doing what they're designed to do. But your vessels weren't designed with exploration and pure science in mind. Ours were, and the capabilities of our sensors, both those aboard the ENTERPRISE and those aboard the shuttlepods, reflect that."

"You mean the ENTERPRISE isn't a warship?" Racetrack asked, amazed.

"It wasn't intended to be, although that's what we've become, on this mission," Tucker replied, a sad look on his face. "If the Xindi hadn't attacked Earth, we'd be out exploring the galaxy, cataloging new worlds and making contact with new species, all in the name of science."

Racetrack looked puzzled. "Why was ENTERPRISE assigned to this mission?"

"Because we're the fastest ship in Starfleet," Tucker said. "The brass hats figured that getting somebody here to the Delphic Expanse within a reasonable time was the most important consideration in choosing who got this mission."

As he was finishing this last statement, they heard the sound of soft footsteps on the metal floor of the launch bay. Tucker turned and saw that T'Pol had come down from the bridge. He suppressed a smile as he noted Racetrack's reaction to her presence...she still wasn't used to the idea of alien lifeforms, and T'Pol's pointed ears, upswept eyebrows, and greenish complexion obviously gave her the willies.

"Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Edmondson," T'Pol said formally as she joined them. Looking at Trip, she asked. "What is your assessment of the capabilities of the Colonial vehicle?"

"Well, I'm afraid that it won't be nearly as useful as the Captain thinks it might be," Trip said. He went on to explain his concerns to the Vulcan First Officer.

T'Pol looked thoughtful. "The Captain will not be happy to hear your report," she said. "A pity we couldn't find some way to combine the capabilities of the Colonial vehicle with those of our shuttlepods."

Trip stood, his arms crossed, silently looking at the Raptor and rubbing his chin as he concentrated. "I wonder," he said.

"What are you thinking, Trip?" Racetrack asked.

"Maybe we could build a ship which combines the best features of both," Trip said.

Racetrack frowned. "You mean transfer the FTL drive from the Raptor to one of your shuttlepods?"

"No," Trip said.

T'Pol looked at him doubtfully. "You mean design a totally new vessel, using both Earth and Colonial technology?" She shook her head. "While the idea is not without merit, I don't see how it could be done, given our current situation."

"It would be difficult to carry off with our limited facilities here," Trip agreed. "You're probably right."

"Maybe we can help you with that," Racetrack said suddenly.

Trip and T'Pol looked at her. "How?" Trip asked.

"The PEGASUS has a factory on board to build Vipers using materials mined from asteroids in space," she said. "We've fabricated parts there for the other vessels in the fleet as well."

Trip looked at T'Pol, a smile creeping over his face. "Well, Subcommander," he said, "maybe this won't be as difficult as we were thinking it might be."

T'Pol's right eyebrow quirked upward. "Indeed." She turned to Racetrack. "Lieutenant, would you be so good as to transport Commander Tucker to present his proposal to Captain Archer? The sooner we can get started with this project, the better."

"Of course," Racetrack said, nodding.

Trip smiled at her. _A factory...on board a starship?_ _Yes, that could be very useful, _he thought to himself. _ We might just be able to make this work after all._

ABOARD THE _S.S. PROMETHEUS_, SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT BETA QUADRANT VOID, DAY 272 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (15 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR).

Tom Zarek sat in a booth, in a dark corner of one of the many shabby dives which served the...mostly...downtrodden souls who had found refuge on the S.S. PROMETHEUS. He sipped from his glass of colorless alcohol, distilled by the owner of the tavern from...well, he preferred not to think of that. Whatever it was, he was quite sure it wouldn't have been approved by the food and beverage quality regulations back in the days when the Twelve Colonies were still going concerns. Now, he, like everyone else aboard this sorry excuse for a ship, was glad to get it, and not at all inclined to ask too many questions about its origin. As long as the distiller didn't poison anyone...or at least not too many...he could put just about whatever he liked into it.

The PROMETHEUS had a reputation as a bad place. It was widely regarded...and quite correctly...as the most lawless place in the fleet. It was the center of the black market which served the fleet and made sure that supplies got relatively fairly distributed...for a price, of course. It was also home to sleazy brothels, seedy gambling dens, and squalid dive bars like the one Zarek was sitting in this morning.

Zarek smiled as he looked around. He felt at home in places like this. Sagittaron had been home to plenty of them, and they were good places to discuss business which was, to put it delicately, not completely reputable. But he didn't feel so at home that he didn't feel compelled to reach down and pat the pocket of his jacket, just to make sure his "insurance" was still there. He smiled again when he felt the comforting weight of the pistol. Even if this place did remind him of home, one couldn't be too careful. _Too many people like me running around this place,_ he thought to himself sardonically.

As he took another sip of his drink, a dark form stepped out of the nearby shadows and sat down in the opposite seat of the booth, across from him. The light was very dim here, and he didn't immediately recognize the dark, sinister-looking figure. But then the man spoke, and Zarek knew the distinctive, deep, gravelly voice instantly...the man known only as Willie, who had, with Zarek's help, taken over the Black Market here after the death of the unfortunate Phelan at the hands of Captain Lee Adama.

"I understand you have need of some...special services," the man said.

Zarek nodded. "You heard right," he said.

Zarek passed over an envelope. Willie took out a cigarette lighter and lit the small candle which sat, nearby, on the table. Then he took the envelope, opened it, and took out the paper inside. He unfolded it, and quickly read the contents. His eyes widened, and he looked up at Zarek.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, incredulous, as he set the note alight in the candle flame, setting it down in a nearby ashtray where it quickly was reduced to cinders.

"Yes," Zarek said, his face grim.

"It'll be very expensive," Willie said, shaking his head.

"You'll be paid well," Zarek replied. "One thing. It has to be done before the election. If you can't arrange for it by then, then forget it."

"I don't know," Willie said. "It seems very risky. I'm not a man who enjoys unnecessary risk."

Zarek laughed harshly. "If you didn't enjoy risk, you wouldn't be here on the PROMETHEUS," he said.

Willie grinned. "I suppose you're right about that."

"Don't try to run the price up, Willie," Zarek said, leaning forward and fixing Willie's eyes with his own. "I know you too well. If you carry this off for me, I'll make it worth your while. You can have my skim from the black market for the next six cycles."

Willie's eyes widened again. Zarek was offering a lot of money...a LOT of money. He put out his hand. "You've got a deal," he said.

"One more thing," Zarek said. "This has to be handled very carefully. More carefully than anything else you've done, ever. This _cannot _be traced back to me. Frak this up and I'll make sure you end up outside an airlock. Do you understand?"

Willie looked into Zarek's eyes, and saw the killer behind them. He knew that Zarek wasn't joking, no, not in the slightest. He shuddered slightly and swallowed hard. "You got it," he said. "On my honor, I swear it."

"Your honor?" Zarek replied, laughing snidely. "Swear on something that's worth something to somebody. Swear on your life!"

"I swear! I swear!," Willie exclaimed.

Zarek reached out and took Willie's hand. He smiled. "Then we have a deal," he said.

ABOARD THE _S.S. CLOUD NINE_, SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT BETA QUADRANT VOID, DAY 272 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (15 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR).

The Cylon known as Gina Inviere, now one of the leaders of the "Demand Peace" movement within the Colonial Fleet, sat on the floor of her cabin aboard the luxury starliner S.S. CLOUD NINE, gently caressing the nuclear warhead given to her by Dr. Gaius Baltar. As she did so, she reflected on the events which had led her to this place...and to this decision.

Gina Inviere was a Number Six model, and like all of that model, was a strikingly beautiful woman. Unlike most Number Sixes, she had honey blonde hair rather than the almost white, platinum blonde worn by most of her kind. She had been assigned as an agent aboard the Battlestar PEGASUS, where, about a week after the destruction of the Colonies, she had led the Battlestar into an ambush at the Battle of the Communications Relay. In the aftermath of the battle, her identity as a Cylon had been revealed, and she had been arrested. She had fully expected that she would, at some point, be exposed and captured. She also had expected to be executed after capture, whereupon she would be resurrected into a new body aboard a Cylon Resurrection Ship. But in that latter expectation, she had been dreadfully, horribly wrong.

Instead of executing her, Admiral Helena Cain...with whom Gina had been carrying on a lesbian affair while working as an agent aboard the PEGASUS...had ordered that she be held for interrogation. She had told the officer assigned to this task, Lieutenant Alistair Thorne, to use "degradation, fear, and shame" to break the Cylon down and extract information from her. Thorne had interpreted those orders in the most sadistic manner possible. She was repeatedly tortured, through methods including severe whippings and electric shock, for hours on end. In between the torture sessions, Thorne and other PEGASUS crewmen repeatedly gang raped her. This brutality went on, unabated, for nearly six months, by the end of which she had been reduced to almost a catatonic state, wishing only to be granted the release of death, even if she did not resurrect as she had once hoped.

And then, the God in which she had almost ceased to believe, intervened. The PEGASUS encountered the main Colonial Fleet being escorted by the Battlestar GALACTICA. Admiral Cain had allowed Dr. Gaius Baltar to take over Gina's "interrogation," and Baltar...who had, himself, once loved another Number Six model while living on Caprica...had decided to help her. He had seen that the torture and rape were stopped, that she was properly fed, and that her overall treatment was improved. But by then, she no longer wished to live. She had revealed to him the existence of the Resurrection Ship, which had been destroyed in a Colonial surprise attack. When she had sensed the destruction of that vessel, rendering her resurrection impossible, she had begged Baltar to kill her.

But once again, she had been denied the death that she so craved. Baltar had refused to kill her, instead arguing that she should go on living and get justice for what had been done to her. With his help, she had escaped from her cell, made her way to Admiral Cain's quarters, and killed the Admiral with a stolen gun. Then she had, somehow, escaped from the PEGASUS.

After weeks in hiding, Gina had found her way to the CLOUD NINE, where she had joined "Demand Peace," a movement which advocated peace, through surrender to the Cylons. She had quickly risen to a position of leadership within that movement, disguising her identity as a Cylon by changing her hair style and wearing glasses.

Soon afterward, she had once again encountered Baltar. Baltar, angered by the perceived ingratitude of President Laura Roslin after Baltar had used the stem cells of a Human/Cylon hybrid child to cure her of her cancer and save her life, had given her the nuclear warhead which he had been given for use in developing his failed Cylon Detector.

She had initially been uncertain as to how, or whether, she would use the nuclear device. Her work with "Demand Peace" seemed to be progressing well, with more and more people coming around to their point of view, and some of them even carrying out sabotage against vital installations and facilities within the Colonial Fleet. With the victory of "Demand Peace," she would finally have her justice. The Colonial survivors would surrender to the Cylons, delivering themselves into the hands of their enemies. There once again seemed to be a reason to live. Now, just under three months later, all that was finished.

The announcement two days ago of first contact with a vessel from Earth, and the rumors that the Colonial Fleet itself would soon be escorted to Earth under the protection of the Thirteenth Tribe's powerful space fleet, had thrown Gina back into a deep depression. If the Colonial Fleet got to Earth, and if Earth was as powerful as the rumors said it was, her justice...the destruction of the human vermin and their eradication from the universe...would never come.

She could sense that no Resurrection Ship was within range of the present position of the Colonial Fleet. If she died now, she would not rise again, ever. Once again, she craved that release with an intensity that almost frightened her. And it occurred to her that she might still, in her last moment of life, strike a blow against the humans who had destroyed her soul. By detonating the nuclear device with which she had been entrusted by Baltar, she would destroy the CLOUD NINE, itself a major blow against her tormentors. Furthermore, fragments of the vessel would be sent out at high speed in all directions, likely impacting with other vessels of the fleet and severely damaging or even destroying them. Last but not least, the explosion would leave a radiation signature which could be picked up by the pursuing Cylon fleet. Perhaps, just perhaps, her vengeance...her justice...could still be had, from beyond the grave. She smiled as she thought of that.

"Yes, I think it's time to go now," she said quietly to herself as she set the timer. Ten minutes. Long enough to pray for the forgiveness of God for what she was about to do. Suicide was a mortal sin, or so her religion taught. But if, in so doing, she carried out God's Plan, surely he would forgive her. Wouldn't he?

About ten minutes later, she found out.


	6. Chapter 5

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER FIVE

ABOARD BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, THE GREAT BETA QUADRANT VOID, DAY 273 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (16 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR).

In his lab aboard the Battlestar GALACTICA, Doctor Gaius Baltar was watching a Talk Wireless news feed on the destruction of the liner, CLOUD NINE, the previous evening. The attractive, blonde Playa Palacios was on the screen.

"Along with the CLOUD NINE, four other vessels were destroyed after being struck by fragments from the explosion. Two others were severely damaged. One of these, the Tylium refinery ship DARU MOZU, could have created a disaster of its own had the Tylium aboard her been detonated. Fortunately, damage control crews were able to prevent that from happening, possibly saving thousands of lives. As it is, estimates of the lives lost in the disaster currently are approaching ten thousand."

"Ten thousand," Baltar whispered. Suddenly, he could feel hot breath on his neck.

"Actually quite a few more than ten thousand," said the angel who appeared to him in the guise of the beautiful blonde Cylon he had once loved. "A tragedy."

Baltar felt her begin to gently massage his neck and shoulders. He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sensation. "Yes, a tragedy," he said. And a tragedy for which he could not help but feel at least partly responsible. Although he could not be absolutely certain...or so he told himself, to salve what little conscience he had left...he was sure that explosion had been caused by Gina Inviere, using the nuclear warhead he had given to the Demand Peace movement. But nobody knew that...did they?

The angel laughed. "Do they know, Gaius?"

Just then, there was a hissing noise as the hatch covering the doorway of the lab slid open. Gaius turned from his video screen and was confronted by the sight of Lieutenant Felix Gaeta, accompanied by several hard-faced marines.

"Dr. Baltar," Gaeta said formally, "Admiral Adama wishes to see you in the briefing room. Come with me, please."

"Your secret's out," the angel jeered.

"No!" Baltar exclaimed, panicked.

"I'm afraid that wasn't a request," Gaeta said. "If you won't come willingly, we are authorized to use force."

Baltar stood up, slicked back his hair and fastidiously straightened the front of his lab coat. He looked at Gaeta. "That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," he said. The marines assumed positions around him, and together, they all left the lab. A few minutes later, Baltar was escorted into the briefing room. He saw that Admiral Adama was there, along with a very tense-looking President Laura Roslin, Colonel Tigh, and the Earthling, Captain Archer.

"Please be seated, Doctor Baltar," Adama said gruffly.

Baltar did as he was told. The angel reappeared, taking the empty seat beside him. She was dressed, this time, in a very distracting, slinky white dress made of a thin, sheer fabric. Baltar thought he could almost see the outlines of her pink nipples through the dress. She sat back in the chair and crossed her long, sexy legs, looking at Baltar with a sly, mocking smile on her face. He looked into her beautiful, clear blue eyes...and then he was suddenly called back to reality.

"What are you looking at, Doctor?," Adama snapped. "Did you hear what I just said?"

Startled, Baltar quickly looked at Adama. "I'm sorry...no, I didn't," he said. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I guess I've just been...stunned...yes, stunned, by what happened last night." He affected to wipe a tear from his eye. "So tragic. So tragic."

"We couldn't agree more, Doctor Baltar," President Roslin said, looking at him very much like a tiger might look at a baby lamb...a very _hungry_ tiger. "A very tragic affair. An affair for which those responsible _must_ pay."

"Of course they must pay...whoever they are," Baltar said quickly.

"That's why we had your lab searched last night, immediately after the catastrophe," Roslin continued. "And what we found...or didn't find...was, shall we say, intriguing."

"They know," the angel said. "Do you know what they'll do to you, Gaius?"

Baltar did his best to ignore her. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you could have found, or why any of this concerns me," Baltar said, looking Roslin straight in the eye. His mind was racing. He knew what they had found...or not found. But he couldn't let them know that. And he had to come up with an explanation, fast. _But first_, he thought, _stall for time._ "Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me," he said.

Tigh growled. "Why are we playing games with this...motherfrakker," he said. "We know he's responsible."

"Responsible for what, Colonel?" Baltar demanded, leaning forward in his seat aggressively. "Enough with the innuendo and the veiled suggestions of guilt. What, exactly, do you think I've done?"

Adama looked at Baltar with baleful eyes, his expression hard as stone. "Doctor, where is the nuclear warhead?"

"Nuclear warhead?" Baltar exclaimed. His eyes widened. "Nuclear warhead! Do you think I had something to do with the explosion aboard the CLOUD NINE?"

"Answer the question!" Tigh shouted, pounding his fist on the table, his face red. "Where's the frakking warhead?"

"Think quickly, Gaius," the angel taunted.

"Hush!" Baltar hissed.

"What did you say to me, Doctor?" Tigh growled.

Suddenly, the answer came to him. Baltar stood up and looked straight into Tigh's eyes.

"You ought to know, Colonel," he said simply.

"Felgercarb!," Tigh hissed in return, his face reddening even more. "What the frak does that mean?"

Baltar looked at Adama. "Admiral, it happened shortly after the Cylon Boomer's attempt on your life. An officer and two marines came to my lab with signed orders from Colonel Tigh, stating that in light of the failure of my Cylon Detector to ferret out the Cylon who had tried to murder you, the nuclear warhead was being taken away from me and returned to GALACTICA's weapons inventory. I already had all the plutonium I needed to continue my efforts to perfect the Cylon Detector, so I allowed them to take the warhead into their custody."

"Very good, Gaius!" the angel said. "I'm impressed!" Baltar suppressed a smile.

Tigh spluttered, "Wait a frakking second! I never authorized that!" He looked at Adama. "You've seen my logs, Bill!"

Adama had, indeed, seen the logs which Tigh had kept during that dark time, and he knew in his heart that his friend had not written the order. But there were others who certainly could have done it. "Did you recognize the men who came to you that day, Doctor?" Adama asked.

Baltar affected to look as if he was trying to remember, then he shook his head. "No, Admiral. I'm afraid I didn't. There are still many personnel aboard this vessel who I don't recognize on sight." He sighed. "And I'm afraid I didn't attempt to confirm the orders, which seemed completely reasonable to me, given what had just happened. Perhaps if I had..." He shook his head again. "I'm sorry, Admiral." He sat down, affecting a stunned look. "If it was THAT warhead...by the gods..."

President Roslin looked at him, a sour look on her face. _Well played, Doctor,_ she thought to herself. She suspected, but couldn't prove, that Baltar had, in some way, colluded with the Cylons and was somehow involved with the destruction of the Twelve Colonies. As she lay dying from cancer in sickbay, she had received visions...she thought they were memories, but she couldn't be sure...in which she had seen Baltar, in the days before the Cylon attack on the Colonies, in the company of the blonde Cylon known as Shelley Godfrey and Gina Inviere. She also felt, in her heart, that Baltar was somehow responsible for the destruction of the CLOUD NINE. But once again, she had no proof. And as much as she would have liked to in Baltar's case, she couldn't, or wouldn't, take away a man's freedom...and possibly his life...without proof. She couldn't even force him to step down as Vice President, or prevent him from assuming the office of President if he were to somehow win the upcoming election, to be held a mere ten days from now.

Roslin looked at Adama. She knew that, if Adama had seen the visions as she had, he would have had no such scruples about dealing with Baltar. He had arrested Roslin herself and thrown her in the brig at one time, nearly sparking a civil war within the fleet. But Roslin, despite what many, such as Tom Zarek, thought of her, was a democrat. _Democracy must be preserved, even in our present, dire situation, _she thought. _Adama must understand this. _ She would do everything in her power to make sure he did.

Adama looked back at the President. He smiled wanly, then looked over at Baltar.

"You may go, Doctor," he said. "We apologize for troubling you."

Baltar rose, affecting a dignified expression. "Thank you, Admiral," he said. Then he looked earnestly around the room. "I do hope you find who's responsible for this...atrocity," he said, then left the room. As he was walking down the pyramid-shaped corridors of the GALACTICA, heading back to his lab, he had to resist the urge to laugh out loud. Or maybe to skip along like a giddy schoolboy. The angel walked beside him.

"Sometimes you show me exactly why God picked you as his instrument," she said softly. "That was just...brilliant! I'm sorry I doubted you, Gaius."

"You should be," Baltar replied, a smug look on his face.

"Maybe I can make it up to you," the angel said. "Do you have to go back to your lab...now?" She playfully licked her lips. Baltar saw that and his knees went weak. He swayed a bit, but recovered quickly.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" said Cally Henderson, who happened to be passing him in the corridor at that moment.

Baltar dramatically wiped the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his lab coat. "I'm not sure," he said.

"Can I escort you to sick bay?" Cally asked, a concerned look on her face.

"No, that won't be necessary," Baltar replied. "Thank you for your concern, but I think I'm just suffering from overwork and exhaustion." He smiled. "Actually, I think I'll take the rest of the afternoon off."

Cally smiled. "That's a good idea, Doctor," she said. "If you're sure you're okay," she said, then hurried off down the corridor.

The angel laughed as she disappeared from sight.. Baltar walked faster, headed now for his quarters.

Meanwhile, back in the briefing room, Adama, Roslin, Tigh and Archer considered what they had just heard.

"Do you believe him?" Archer asked.

"The story is plausible," Adama said. "That was an...unfortunate...time." He looked at Tigh, smiling. "Colonel Tigh did his best, but he found out just how difficult commanding this fleet actually is. Someone could easily have taken advantage of the situation to steal Doctor Baltar's warhead."

"You mean like that terrorist group...what was it called?" Tigh said.

"Demand Peace," Roslin said. "Yes, the story is all too plausible."

"So you do believe him," Archer said.

Roslin smiled, a cold, frosty smile that could easily have lowered the temperature in the room by a good ten degrees. "Not for a moment," she said. "But there's no proof." She sighed heavily, frustrated. "And a man is innocent until proven guilty, however much we may suspect him."

Archer nodded. He was glad to see that the rule of law still prevailed here, despite everything these people had gone through. Baltar's case was unclear, at best. Given the lack of evidence, Archer had to agree with Roslin's decision.

"All we can do is to keep digging," Roslin continued. She paused, and smiled again, her smile...if such was even possible...even frostier than before. "But I will tell you this...if we ever do find evidence of treachery on the part of the esteemed Doctor Baltar, I'll put him out of the airlock myself."


	7. Chapter 6

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER SIX

THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 18 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR.

Commander Lee Adama, accompanied by Chief Galen Tyrol, sat in the passenger seats of a Raptor as it approached the Earth vessel, ENTERPRISE, itself in orbit above an unnamed planet in this odd region of space which the Earthlings called the Delphic Expanse. Several thousand kilometers away, the battlestar PEGASUS also orbited the planet, having just arrived here a short time ago, per the agreement forged between Admiral Adama and Captain Archer of the ENTERPRISE for assistance in building a specially designed explorer craft incorporating both Earth and Colonial technology. As they approached the shuttlepod landing bays, the doors of one of which was already opening, they heard the voice of Hoshi Sato, the communications officer of the ENTERPRISE, come over the speakers.

"Hold Position for retrieval, Raptor One," Sato said.

"Affirmative, ENTERPRISE," replied the Raptor's pilot, Lieutenant Shawn Carter. "Holding position."

Adama looked out of the canopy, upwards toward the open bay door, and saw a mechanical arm, equipped with a magnetic pad, extend out from the landing bay and toward the Raptor. The pad passed out of sight from the Raptor's canopy, and there was a soft thump as it made contact with the metal skin of the spacecraft. To their amazement, the arm lifted them upwards, moving them deftly through the narrow landing bay doors and holding the Raptor suspended while the doors shut beneath them. Then it gently set them down on top of the doors, which now formed the landing bay floor.

"Please remain inside your craft while the bay repressurizes," they heard Sato's voice say.

"Affirmative," Carter said.

Adama noticed some flashing red lights on one of the landing bay walls which suddenly turned a solid green, just as Sato's voice spoke again. "The bay is repressurized. You may safely exit your craft. Welcome to the ENTERPRISE."

"Affirmative, and thank you," Carter replied. He hit a button on his panel and the side door of the Raptor swung upwards. Commander Adama, followed by Chief Tyrol, stepped out and onto the deck of the bay. They were greeted by the ENTERPRISE's First Officer, Subcommander T'Pol, and Commander Tucker, the ship's engineer.

"Welcome aboard the ENTERPRISE," T'Pol said, before introducing herself and her companion.

"It's good to be here," Commander Adama said, smiling and trying not to look shocked at his first view of a non-human alien. T'Pol saw that, and her right eyebrow raised slightly in bemusement. For her part, as humans went, she thought Commander Adama was a handsome man, dressed in a well-tailored black military uniform, and quite young for one entrusted with command of a vessel as large and impressive as the PEGASUS. Adama turned to his companions. Adama pointed to the shorter, stockier man with wavy dark hair and eyes who stood beside him, dressed in an orange coverall with what looked like rubber pockets and white reflective stripes on it. "This is Chief Galen Tyrol." He smiled. "The Chief designed and built a working fighter craft for us a while back, using spare parts and waste materials we had on board ship, so I thought his experience might be useful."

"It might just, at that," Trip said. He extended his hand to the Chief. "Always good to meet another Hot Rodder," he said, grinning.

Chief Tyrol took Trip's hand, a puzzled look on his face. "Hot Rodder?" he asked.

"An old Earth term for somebody who likes to build or modify his own vehicles, using whatever materials are at hand," Trip said. The Chief smiled and nodded.

"We have begun work on an appropriate design," T'Pol said. "We would welcome your input and suggestions."

"Of course," Adama said.

Led by T'Pol, the group left the launch bay. A few minutes later, they arrived at a room which had evidently been converted from an empty crewman's quarters...now uninhabited since the death of the crewman who had formerly lived there...into a design room where work on the new explorer craft was being done by Commander Tucker and others from the ENTERPRISE crew. A large table, covered with engineering drawings, occupied the center of the room, and there were several computer terminals along one wall.

"The big unknown," Trip said to the Chief, "is what sort of stresses the FTL jump engines might cause on the structural frame of the craft."

"I can give you that information, and help you with modifying your design to deal with them," Chief Tyrol said.

Trip smiled. "I had hoped you could," he said. Looking at Commander Adama, he said, "Lieutenant Edmondson says you have a factory facility aboard your vessel which can fabricate parts."

"Yes," Adama said. "It is at your disposal."

"We have very few facilities to construct a new spacecraft here on ENTERPRISE," Trip said. "Your assistance in that will be a Godsend."

Lee nodded. "We're happy to help." He bent over to examine the design drawings on the table, then looked up at Trip.

"Have you considered adding stealth features to the ship?"

"Stealth features?" Trip asked.

"The Chief designed a recon craft for us which was made of special materials which made detection by DRADIS difficult," Lee replied. "The materials were black which made visual identification of it in space very difficult as well. It wouldn't make it totally invisible...the energy signatures the ship emits could still be picked up, for example. But it might give some advantage on the type of missions for which this vessel will be used."

Trip rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We hadn't thought of that. We know the Romulans are working with some sort of cloaking technology that seems to work by bending light waves to render the ship invisible, and we had written that off as impractical. But your idea might just work. As you say, it wouldn't be perfect, but it might be helpful." He looked back at Lee. "Could this stuff be applied as a covering or coating over a duranium-alloy hull?

"Well, I'm not sure what duranium is," Chief Tyrol put in. "But I don't see why the material could not be applied as a covering over a metal hull. It should work that way."

T-Pol looked at Trip. "Commander, how long do you think it will take to construct the vessel, once the design is finalized?"

"With the assistance of the PEGASUS factory facilities, my guess is not more than a few days," Trip said.

"The sooner, the better, Commander," T'Pol said.

Trip slapped Chief Tyrol on the back. "The Chief and I'll get to work immediately on the design. With luck, we'll have it finished by this time tomorrow."

Chief Tyrol grinned. "Yes, Commander."

"Call me Trip," Tucker said. The Chief nodded.

"Excellent," T'Pol said. "Keep me informed of your progress." Turning to Commander Adama, she said, "Commander, if you will accompany me, I'll give you a tour of the bridge."

Lee smiled. He was quite taken by the exotic looking alien woman. "I'd love to," he said.

As T'Pol and Adama left the room, Trip watched them go, a slight frown on his face. Then he shook it off, and, turning to the Chief, he said, "Well, we've got a lot of work to do. What do you say I have Chef send down some sandwiches and coffee?"

"Sandwiches and coffee?" the Chief asked.

"An old Earth staple," Trip replied, a slightly mischievous look in his eye. "Meat and vegetables between two slices of bread, intended to be easily consumed by busy people. Accompanied by a stimulant beverage intended to keep them awake until their work is done."

"Oh," the Chief said, "that sounds good."

"You got it," Trip said, then moved to a com-panel to place the order.

Chief watched him as he did so. _Odd people, these Earthlings_, he thought to himself. _But I think I'm going to like them._

ABOARD THE STARLINER ZEPHYR, DAY 277 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (20 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

On the day of the second of three Presidential Debates, President Laura Roslin sat in the back of a Raptor which was transporting her from her own vessel, COLONIAL ONE, to the star-liner ZEPHYR, where the debate would be held. With her were her secretary, Tory Foster, and Captain Jonathan Archer, who was interested to watch the debate and see how democracy aboard the Colonial Fleet functioned. As they approached the ZEPHYR, Roslin reflected that the debate was originally to have been held on the far more luxurious CLOUD NINE. Unfortunately, the CLOUD NINE...along with four other ships and nearly eleven thousand Colonial survivors...no longer existed.

In the aftermath of the CLOUD NINE explosion, Admiral Adama had called for the imposition of martial law on the fleet and the postponement of the Colonial elections, which were scheduled to take place in six days. Roslin had refused. It was important, she had told Adama, to go through with the elections, to demonstrate to everyone in the fleet that the Colonial Government was not intimidated by terrorists, and would continue to govern democratically, no matter what.

Governing democratically, as it happened, had been rendered somewhat difficult by the events of the past few days. Most of the Quorum of Twelve had been aboard the CLOUD NINE when it was converted to a floating cloud of space debris by the detonation of a nuclear device, just five days ago now. Roslin was basically ruling by edict at the moment, pending the selection of new delegates for the Quorum representing the survivors of each colony. Elections for those posts would be held on the same day as the Presidential election.

Her reverie was broken by Captain Archer, who was peering out of the front canopy at the ZEPHYR, taking in the needle-like hull and the large ring which made up the aft end of the vessel.

"That's an interesting design," he said, smiling as he turning back to Roslin. "It somewhat resembles the design of Vulcan starships." Then the smile left his face, replaced by a look of concern. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Madame President? Given the disaster your people have just suffered, Admiral Adama's call for martial law might be justified."

"Yes," Roslin replied. "The decision is made, and we're going through with the election."

Archer smiled. "I respect your decision, Madame President."

Tory Foster grinned. "You might as well have canceled the debate, Laura. The polls show that you're so far ahead of Baltar that he has no chance. If anything, your popularity has increased following the destruction of the CLOUD NINE. People are rallying around the administration."

"But Tom Zarek's supporters, and the Demand Peace movement, are still out there," Roslin said. "And if we canceled the election, both of them would shout from the rooftops that Admiral Adama and I were imposing a dictatorship."

"I know," Tory said. "But who would listen?"

"More people than you might think," Roslin said. "No, its better to go through with the election as planned."

Shortly afterward, the Raptor landed on the ZEPHYR's landing bay, and the passengers, joined by the two Marines whom Admiral Adama had assigned as a security detail, exited the vessel. A crowd of Roslin's supporters were there to greet them, and chants of "One More Term!" filled the air. Roslin smiled and shook hands with some of those in the front row before heading off toward the landing bay exits.

As they were passing through a hallway which had been sealed off to allow the President's party unimpeded access to the hall where the debate was to be held, they passed a maintenance worker, dressed in a tan coverall with large, black rubber pockets and a round cap on his head, swabbing the floor of the hallway with an old-fashioned mop. He tipped his hat to the President as she passed, and she smiled and nodded in return. They took a few steps past the man, then they heard the mop clatter to the floor.

"Demand Peace!" the man shouted.

As the Marines spun around to face him in an effort to protect the President, they saw it was already too late. The man already had an automatic pistol drawn, and he rapidly squeezed the trigger. POP, POP, POP, POP, POP, POP...six rounds were fired in rapid succession. One of the Marines went down, shot in the face as he raised his own weapon to fire. The other was hit in the arm (as well as by two other rounds which slammed into his bullet-proof vest), but managed to fire a quick burst of sub-machine gun fire which cut the assailant down where he stood. But it was too late. President Roslin lay on the floor, a bullet hole above her right eye. Captain Archer quickly knelt beside her, and putting his ear close to her face, heard her breathing.

"She's still alive," he said to the Marine, who quickly nodded and tapped the button on the radio strapped to his wrist.

"I need a med-team here immediately," he shouted, tears running down his face. "The President's been shot."

"Oh, my gods!," Tory Foster shrieked. "Laura!" She dropped to her knees, and cradled the President's head in her arms.

"Affirmative," he heard the voice of Anastasia Dualla over the radio. "The ZEPHYR's med-staff is being notified."

A few minutes later, President Roslin having been quickly packed up for transport by the ZEPHYR's med-techs, she was placed back aboard the RAPTOR and given an emergency transport to GALACTICA, where the most advanced medical facilities in the fleet were located. Upon arrival on GALACTICA, she was rushed to sick bay, where Doctor Cottle examined her. Admiral Adama joined Captain Archer as Cottle reported his findings.

"Well, she's alive, which is amazing," Cottle said. "The MRI pictures show that the assassin used an exploding bullet, but it failed to detonate. It seems to have passed cleanly through the right hemisphere of the President's brain, but did not exit from the rear of her skull. Fortunately, it was a relatively small caliber bullet, and the damage done as it passed through the brain was less than it might have been. She's an extremely lucky woman." He took a drag of the cigarette which was hanging from one corner of his mouth, then stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray. "The gods must be looking out for her, that's all I've got to say."

"Will she recover?" Admiral Adama asked.

"I don't know," Cottle said. "I think she's got a good chance, but with a brain injury...it's just hard to be certain."

Just at that moment, there was a commotion outside the door of sickbay.

"I am the Vice President of the Twelve Colonies," they heard Gaius Baltar's voice shrilly exclaim. "I demand to be admitted!"

"Let him in," Admiral Adama called. The marines guarding the entrance stepped aside, and Baltar stepped through. Coming to stand next to the bed, he looked down on the President.

"Gods," he said, turning to look at Adama. "How did this happen?"

"The President's party was accosted by what appeared to be a maintenance worker on the ZEPHYR," Adama said. "The man shouted 'Demand Peace' before opening fire."

"Was the assassin taken alive?" Baltar asked.

"No," Adama replied. "He was not."

"Pity, that," Baltar said, a serious look on his face. He felt the angel behind him. She whispered in his ear.

"The gods help those who help themselves," she said.

Baltar looked quickly over his shoulder at the angel, his eyes wide. Then he turned back to Dr. Cottle.

"What is her prognosis, Doctor?" he asked.

"As I was telling the Admiral, she's alive," Cottle said. He lit another cigarette, and took a long drag. "She's in a coma. Whether or when she'll come out of it, I can't say at this time." He gave Baltar a sour look. "I guess that means, for the time being, that you're the President of the Colonies."

Baltar looked at Adama. He well knew that he might legally hold the title, but it meant nothing without the acquiescence of the military. "Admiral?" he asked.

Adama gave him a long, hard look. If it had been left up to him, he would have refused and declared martial law immediately. But he could still hear Laura's words, ringing in his ears, spoken when she had been dying of cancer, a few weeks before. _Baltar is the Vice President. He must be allowed to succeed me. _

"Mr. Vice President," he said, "I must tell you that I have...reservations." He paused before speaking again. "But it is the stated wish of President Roslin that, in the event of her death or disablement, I support the peaceful transfer of power to her legal successor. I will abide by those wishes." He turned to Tory Foster, who stood nearby. "Please arrange for the Vice President to be sworn into office as Acting President within the hour."

"Yes, Admiral," Tory said, and left the room.

"Acting President?" Baltar asked.

"She's not dead yet, and she may recover," Adama said.

"Of course," Baltar said. "Of course."

He heard the angel laughing. "She won't recover," she said. "Zarek will make sure of that. Your destiny is upon you, Gaius."

Captain Archer, who was standing nearby, spoke up. "Admiral, meaning no disrespect, but the medical facilities on my ship are much better than those available here, and our doctor is one of the top physicians in our part of the galaxy. I'd like to offer the use of both in the treatment of President Roslin's injuries."

"Do something!" the angel hissed at Baltar.

"Are you sure that's necessary?" Baltar suddenly exclaimed. "Wouldn't it be more dangerous to move her than to leave her here under the care of Dr. Cottle?"

"No, I quite agree," Cottle said. "She's been stabilized and it should be safe to transport her."

"Stop them!" the angel demanded shrilly.

"How?" Baltar blurted out, turning to face the angel.

"How what, Doctor Baltar?" Cottle asked.

Baltar quickly turned back to Cottle. "How...do you know she's stable enough for travel? Brain injuries, they're tricky things."

"As I was explaining to the Admiral, President Roslin is very lucky. The damage is much less severe than it could have been," Cottle replied. "Although any brain injury is bad enough. But I am willing to certify her safe for travel."

"And if Dr. Cottle believes it is safe for her to be transported, that's good enough for me," Adama said.

Baltar nodded, a worried look on his face. "Of course, Admiral," he said.

"May the gods protect her," Cottle said.

"So say we all!" Adama exclaimed.

"So say we all," Baltar repeated. He saw the angel standing nearby, shaking her head in dismay. Ignoring her, Baltar looked into Adama's eyes. "So say we all."


	8. Chapter 7

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER SEVEN

ABOARD U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 21 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Captain Jonathan Archer sat in the office of Doctor Phlox in sickbay, waiting for Phlox to bring up, on his computer terminal, his report on the condition of President Laura Roslin of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Roslin had been transported to the ENTERPRISE from the Battlestar GALACTICA, still in the Beta Quadrant, earlier this morning. Archer had returned to the ENTERPRISE on the same Raptor which had transported President Roslin, and despite the circumstances of his arrival, he was glad to be back among his own people.

"Ah, here we are," Phlox said. He turned the screen toward Archer so the Captain could see it more easily. "These are the scans of the President's brain. As you can see, she was struck by a small caliber projectile which passed through the right hemisphere of her brain. Fortunately, as their Doctor Cottle stated in his report, the small size of the projectile limited the amount of damage it did as it passed through the brain. It did not damage any of the major blood vessels serving the brain, so bleeding inside the brain has been limited. She's a very lucky woman."

"Can you save her, then?" Archer asked.

"Yes, I think so," Phlox said. "The tricky part is going to be removing the projectile. According to Doctor Cottle's report, the projectile was designed to explode, but did not. In a way, that's good, because it meant that the projectile was made of a material which did not flatten or otherwise distort when it entered her skull, which would have caused much more damage to the tissue as it passed through the brain, had that occurred. But since it is an explosive projectile, extreme care must be taken when removing it or it might detonate."

"I can see how that would be...unfortunate," Archer said, nodding. "Can you do it?"

"Yes, Captain," Phlox said. "Although I've only rarely had to deal with injuries caused by such archaic weapons, this is not the first gunshot wound I've ever seen. I'm confident that I can safely remove it."

"Good," Archer said. "What about the damage to her brain?"

"That, I'm not so sure about," Phlox said, his face a mask of sadness. "Brain injuries are not easily treated, even with the advanced techniques available today. But I'll do everything I can." He smiled. "I think my osmotic eel might be of use in repairing the damage."

Captain Archer smiled in return. He was aware of the doctor's odd menagerie and the many medical uses to which he put them.

"Captain, there is one other thing that I'd like to discuss with you, related to President Roslin's treatment," Phlox continued.

"What is that?" Archer asked.

"She has cancer of the breast," Phlox said. "The disease is temporarily in remission, but it is already showing signs of returning."

"I assume you can take care of that, too," Archer said.

"Of course," Phlox said. "Cancer was eliminated on Earth over forty years ago now through the genetic resequencing technique discovered by Doctor Pyong Ko."

"Then do it," Archer said.

"Yes, Captain," the doctor said.

"When will you perform the surgery to remove the projectile?" Archer asked.

"Later this afternoon," Phlox said. "In preparation for the surgery, I'm giving her a treatment of the regenerative enzymes produced from the droppings of my Altarian marsupial. This should begin to heal some of the damage to the President's brain, seal off many of the capillaries which are still ruptured, and generally help provide the strength she needs to withstand the stresses of the operation."

"All right, Doctor," the Captain said. "One other thing I wanted to ask you about, while I was here. What is your progress on a method of detecting the Cylon infiltrators in the Colonial Fleet?"

"I've had some promising results from several lines of research, Captain," Phlox said. "If we had an actual Cylon on which to perform tests, it would be helpful."

"From what I understand," Archer replied, "a Cylon who has apparently defected to the Colonial fleet and has agreed to help them was among the personnel sent on the Search and Rescue mission to recover known human survivors from the Colonial home worlds. The mission has not yet returned, but should be coming back in a few days, provided everything went as planned. She might agree to be your guinea pig."

"Guinea Pig?" Phlox asked, a puzzled look on his face.

Archer grinned. "A small rodent which was once used in medical experiments on Earth."

"Ah, I see," Phlox said, nodding. "Very interesting. Yes, if she will agree to act as a 'guinea pig,' that would be very helpful. We want to be sure this works before we try it on a large scale."

"I agree," Archer said. He stood up. "Keep me posted on your progress on the Cylon detector. And let me know when you are ready to begin surgery on President Roslin."

"Certainly, Captain," Phlox said, nodding.

Archer turned and left the room. Phlox got up, and picked up a cannister of Vulcan root leaf. He walked over to where his Osmotic Eel rested on a rock on the bottom of its tank. Phlox lifted the clear lid of the tank and dropped in a small amount of the root leaf.

"There you go," he said softly. "You're going to be busy soon, and you'll need the nutrients."

He closed the lid of the tank, and replaced the cannister of food in its place. Walking over to the table where President Roslin rested while the regenerative enzymes were gradually pumped into her blood stream, he looked down on her. She was, for a human, an attractive woman, even if not young. Phlox smiled. If he did not already have three wives, he would not have minded adding her to his extended family. He shook his head and pushed such idle thoughts from his mind. He knew she would never understand or accept the complexity of Denobulan family relationships. Even a human from Earth would have difficulty with that, and the humans from the Twelve Colonies, who up until a few days ago, had never seen a non-human species of intelligent life before, would certainly find it impossible. Instead, he focused on her treatment, as a good doctor should.

Meanwhile, Captain Archer was temporarily alone with his thoughts as he rode the turbolift down to the Engineering deck. He was still not sure of what to make of the Colonials. _From what I've seen,_ he mused silently to himself, _the Colonials may still suffer from many of the societal defects which Earth has eliminated, or is in the process of eliminating.I'm not sure how well they're going to adjust to life under the jurisdiction of Earth. But they're human, and we've got to try._

He had been shocked, to say the least, by the events of the past few days among the Colonial Fleet. First the destruction by a terrorist group of the liner, CLOUD NINE, along with four other vessels and the loss of over eleven thousand lives. Then, the attempted assassination of the Colonial President. Such things were...almost...unthinkable on Earth nowadays. He knew there was trouble with a group called Terra Prime which advocated the expulsion of all aliens from Earth and which occasionally resorted to violent action to further its agenda. But even that organization was not considered to be much of a threat to the peace and tranquility of Earth.

He knew that it was possible that at least part of what he had seen was the work of Cylon infiltrators aboard the Colonial fleet. He hoped so, at least. That was a problem that, with any luck, might be easily solved. If it reflected a basic dysfunction within Colonial society...that could be bad. Very bad.

The turbolift reached the Engineering Deck, and the doors hissed as they slid open. Captain Archer stepped out into the cramped space of Main Engineering. As usual, he could see his Chief Engineer, Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker, busily working with the other engineering crew as they attempted to squeeze just a little more power out of the ENTERPRISE's warp engine. The huge, vaguely barrel-like warp core assembly filled the center of the cavernous room, and Trip was up on the raised platform at one end of the assembly, peering at the readouts on the computer screen which served as a control center for the warp core. Tucker noticed Archer's entry into the room, and turned and waved.

"Good to see you, Captain," he called as he climbed down from the platform.

"It's good to be home," Archer said, smiling, as Tucker stepped up to where he stood, in front of the turbolift doors. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be working on the new reconnaissance vessel."

Trip smiled. "We finished the design for it last night, Captain," he said. "Chief Tyrol is over on the PEGASUS right now, supervising the fabrication of the special-production parts we'll need to construct it. We're disassembling one of our shuttlepods and one of the Raptors, and will use components of each in the construction of the final vehicle."

"Sounds good," Archer said, nodding. "I am looking forward to seeing her, when she's finished."

"Yes, Sir!," Trip said, grinning. "You and me both!"

"How long do you think construction will take?" Archer asked.

"With the facilities onboard the PEGASUS?" Trip said. "Not more than a few days. They've got a great facility over there. I was very impressed by it."

Archer grinned in turn. "I thought you would be," he said. "All right, Trip. Carry on, then."

"Yes, Sir!," Trip replied, and turned to head back to this work on the Warp Core assembly. Archer watched him go, then turned around. Pressing a button on the wall next to the turbolift door, he watched as the doors slid open with a hiss. Stepping inside, he pressed the button for the bridge. He briefly felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach as the lift began to rise upward toward its destination. As he did so, he couldn't help thinking of President Roslin again, lying on the main biobed in the center of sickbay.

He had not been favorably impressed by the Colonial Vice President, Gaius Baltar. Baltar seemingly had a lot of skeletons in his closet, and the fact that he was now serving as Acting President of the Colonial fleet did not fill him with confidence. If, as Roslin suspected, Baltar was secretly working for the Cylons...well, he didn't want to think about that. The possibilities which occurred to him when he did so were uniformly unpleasant.

He knew that Phlox would do everything he could for Roslin. And Phlox's best was, he knew, pretty damned good. All he could do now was hope that Phlox's best would be good enough. Because if she died, or was rendered incapable of resuming the office of President by her brain injuries...

"God help us all," he said softly to himself.

ABOARD COLONIAL ONE, SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT BETA QUADRANT VOID, DAY 278 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (21 APRIL 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

Acting President Gaius Baltar sat with Tom Zarek in President Roslin's offices aboard Colonial One, watching a Talk Wireless feed regarding the events of the previous day. Sandy-haired James McManus, formerly of the _Caprica Times_, was reporting.

"Last night's attempted assassination of President Laura Roslin has sent shockwaves through the fleet," McManus was saying. "Early indications are that the assassin may have been affiliated with the terrorist group, Demand Peace. However, sources close to Admiral Adama report that the investigation is continuing."

At that, Baltar looked over at Zarek, who smiled in return. Baltar wanted to ask Zarek what, exactly, he knew about last night's shocking events. But he knew that this office was not the place to do that...he was not entirely sure of the security of this place, and you never could tell who might be listening. Besides...he was not sure he wanted to know.

The beautiful blonde angel...dressed in a slinky, backless black dress with a low-cut neckline which revealed her ample cleavage, and black fishnet stockings which accentuated the curves of her long, long legs...sat in a nearby chair with her legs crossed, smiling slyly as she looked at Gaius.

"What's the matter, Gaius?" she asked. "Too afraid to ask the obvious question?"

Gaius studiously ignored her. Instead, he turned back to the screen.

"In light of President Roslin's condition," McManus was saying, "Acting President Baltar has announced that the Presidential Elections are being postponed, pending the President's recovery or the selection of an opposition candidate to replace President Roslin on the ticket. Elections for new representatives to the Quorum of Twelve, to replace those killed in the explosion of the liner, CLOUD NINE, will continue as scheduled. He has also announced his selection of Tom Zarek, the Quorum representative from the Colony of Sagittaron, as his Acting Vice President, pending the ratification of the new Quorum of Twelve which will be selected in two days time. "

Baltar pressed a button on his desk, and the video screen went blank. Tom Zarek turned around to face Baltar. He smiled. "Congratulations, Mr. President."

"And you as well, Mr. Vice President," Baltar replied. "How likely is it that your appointment will be ratified by the Quorum?

Zarek grinned. "Don't you worry about that," he said. "I'm very popular among the voters." He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "The big question is, how is Adama reacting to all of this?"

"So far, he's keeping his promise to support the peaceful transfer of power," Baltar said.

"For the time being, at least," Zarek added.

"Yes," Baltar agreed. "For the time being."

The angel got up from her chair, and came and sat on one corner of the presidential desk. Crossing her legs again, she looked down at Baltar.

"You know, Gaius," she said, "if Tom Zarek can arrange for someone to put a bullet in Roslin's head, what's to prevent him from putting one in yours?"

Baltar looked up at her, his eyes wide. "Do you think so?" he asked.

"Do I think what, Mr. President?" Zarek asked, confused.

"Do you think...do you think that Adama might act against us?" Baltar asked.

"Perhaps the Scrolls of Pythia have been misinterpreted," the angel mused softly. "Perhaps Roslin was not the leader who would lead us to Earth, but die before seeing the Promised Land. Perhaps that leader is you, Gaius."

Gaius could feel a cold chill surge down his backbone as he looked at Tom Zarek. Had he indeed, as the angel had suggested, clasped the serpent to his breast? And if he had, what could he do about it?

"I don't know if Adama will act against us," Zarek was saying. "But I know he doesn't like either of us, and he's tried to install a military dictatorship before. I'm just saying we should be ready."

"You did fail to protect our child, Gaius," the angel said in a low, dangerous voice. "Perhaps God has decided you're not his instrument after all."

"No, he can't!" Baltar exclaimed, looking up at the angel with fear in his eyes.

"He can't?" Zarek said. "Of course he can. Adama has the guns. He who has the guns, has the power."

Baltar looked back at Zarek. "What do you suggest?"

"Establish a civilian security force," Tom said. "One who will be responsible to you, and to the Quorum of Twelve. The time when all security is provided by the military must end. There must be a counterbalance to the power of the military."

_And if I somehow should disappear, that force would be responsible to you_, Baltar thought to himself. But he could not deny that it was a good idea to break the military's current monopoly on armed force.

"I'll talk to Adama about it," Baltar said.

"You'd better do more than talk," Zarek said, shaking his head. "You'd better demand. This is too important..."

"I said I'd talk to him," Baltar said, cutting him off. "And I will."

"All right," Tom said, rising from his seat. "I guess I can't ask more of you than that."

"Quite right," Baltar said, rising from his desk and offering his hand. Zarek took it, and Baltar looked deep into the former terrorist's eyes. The angel, no longer perched on the corner of his desk, whispered in his ear.

"The gods help those..."

"...who help themselves," Baltar whispered.

"What did you say, Mr. President?" Zarek asked as he released Baltar's hand.

"We have a bar aboard this vessel," Baltar said, smiling. "Now that you're Vice President, feel free to help yourself."

"Why thank you, Mr. President," Zarek said, smiling in return. "I think I will." He bowed slightly, then left Baltar's office.

"I know you will, Mr. Vice President," Baltar said to himself. "Unless I help myself first."

The angel laughed.


	9. Chapter 8

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 24 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker sat in the cockpit of the new hybrid reconnaissance craft which had been built with the cooperation and assistance of the Colonial Battlestar PEGASUS. Beside him, busily working to complete calculations for the first-ever use of the craft's FTL-Jump Engines, was Commander Lee Adama. In other seats, further back, were Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, who would be operating the sensor array and weapons systems, and Chief Galen Tyrol, who was there to help out if there were any technical malfunctions with the Colonial systems during the flight.

As he waited for Lee to complete his calculations, Trip smiled as he remembered his impression on seeing the completed recon craft for the first time. That impression had been very favorable.

The assembly of the new ship had taken place aboard PEGASUS, and it had arrived aboard the ENTERPRISE just the previous day. Sleek lines and the black carbon composite coating intended to confuse enemy sensors gave it a somewhat predatory look.

The new vessel was larger than a Starfleet Shuttlepod and smaller than a Colonial Raptor. A Raptor could...just barely...fit through the Shuttlepod landing bay doors of the ENTERPRISE, since a Raptor was designed to carry up to ten marines in addition to its flight crew of two, and the sublight engines of the Raptors were also much larger than the relatively compact impulse drives carried by Starfleet shuttlepods. The inclusion of the FTL jump engine had necessitated a larger vessel than the standard Starfleet design, but since only a small operating crew was intended to be carried, it was still considerably smaller than a Raptor.

Trip smiled again as he thought of the equipment aboard the new vessel. Standard Starfleet sensors were supplemented by the DRADIS array from a Colonial Raptor, giving it enhanced search capability. Armed with photonic torpedoes, one plasma cannon and one phase cannon, the vessel packed a punch. And, Trip knew, it had polarized hull plating. _Where a standard Starfleet pod can withstand two, or maybe three, phase cannon or disruptor hits,_ he thought to himself, _this baby should be able to stand up to twice, or even three times that many. _

Of course, Trip knew that the new ship, tough as it was, would not survive long in a stand-up engagement with a Xindi warship. But the heavy armament and protection might allow them the time they needed to jump away and out of danger.

There was a dull thud as the magnetic arm which would lower them out through the launch bay doors made contact with the roof of the craft. As Trip looked out of front canopy, he could see the launch bay doors opening below them. The voice of Hoshi Sato, the ENTERPRISE's communications officer, came through the speakers. "Shuttlepod MARION," she said, "You are cleared for launch."

Trip felt a small surge of pride as he heard the name of the new vessel. Francis Marion, the famous "Swamp Fox" of the American Revolution, was one of Trip's distant ancestors. Marion, a guerrilla leader, had evaded the pursuit of British forces by retreating into the swamps of South Carolina, sallying forth from the swamps to attack isolated British outposts or to gain vital intelligence for the Patriot cause. Trip knew that this vessel would be engaged in similar activities. Out here in space, there were no obviously swamps to provide convenient hiding places. _Nebulae, asteroid fields, and the odd planetary atmosphere will have to do instead, _Trip thought to himself, smiling.

"Affirmative," Trip said. "Launching now." He pressed a button on his console, and the mechanical arm extended itself, pushing the MARION out of the open bay doors and depositing the ship at a safe distance from the ENTERPRISE. The arm disengaged, and withdrew back into the larger vessel.

"Well, lets see how this baby handles," Trip said, a big grin on his face. "Engaging impulse drive. Ahead, one quarter impulse." He pressed a button on his console and the MARION moved away.

"Jump calculations completed," Lee said.

"Engage Jump Drive," Trip ordered.

"Engaging drive," Lee said. Trip felt a momentary sensation of disorientation as the jump drive engaged.

On the bridge of the ENTERPRISE, Captain Archer watched as the MARION disappeared in a brief flash of white light. He knew there were a lot of unanswered questions about the design of the new vessel. If they'd gotten the answers to any of those wrong, this might well be a one-way trip. "Good luck, Trip," he said softly.

Meanwhile, near a subspace amplifier which the ENTERPRISE had left behind while en route to the Delphic Expanse, there was a brief flash of white light as the MARION re-entered normal space.

Trip quickly pressed several buttons on his console. "Transmitting the Captain's message to Earth." He looked back at Chief Tyrol. "We did it!" Trip exclaimed, his face split by a wide grin. Tyrol grinned in return.

"So far, so good," Lee said. "It appears the design is sound."

"Yes," Malcolm said. "I had wondered whether we would survive the first jump." He grinned. "I'm glad I was wrong about that." He got up from his seat and came to stand beside Tucker. Looking out of the front canopy, he said, "How far are we from the ENTERPRISE?"

"About twelve light years," Trip said. "We're about five light years outside the Delphic Expanse."

"That's the usual maximum safe jump distance for this type of Jump Drive," Lee said.

"But I was given to understand that the distance between the ENTERPRISE and your fleet in the Beta Quadrant was at least a couple of hundred light years," Malcolm said, a frown on his face.

"Basically, in order to traverse that distance in one jump, we had to replicate the malfunction of Racetrack's jump computer which brought her there in the first place," Tyrol said. "Since we were going to a known point in space, we were able to do that." He sighed. "Even then it's dangerous. But we considered it worth the risk."

"Ah," Malcolm said. "I see."

A flashing light on the tactical panel suddenly drew Malcolm's attention. Stepping over to the display, he said, "Vessel detected on long-range scanners." He looked at Trip. "It's headed this way."

"Were you expecting visitors?" Lee asked.

"No," Tucker said.

"Powering up weapons and polarized hull plating," Malcolm said.

"Hold on, let's see how effective our fancy new disguise is," Trip said, referring to the carbon composite "stealth" coating applied to the hull of the MARION. "Weapons on standby." He looked at Lee. "How long until we can jump again?"

"Ten minutes," Lee said.

"Let's just sit tight and see what our new friend wants," Trip said.

"DRADIS puts range at 50,000 kilometers and closing rapidly," Chief Tyrol said, looking over Malcolm's shoulders. He was still getting used to the Earthlings' scale of distance measurement.

Soon the alien vessel came into view. Trip frowned as he recognized the sleek, dangerous lines of an Orion vessel.

"Orions!," Malcolm exclaimed. "What are they doing out here?"

"Nothing good," Trip said.

"You've encountered these aliens before?" Lee asked.

"Not personally," Trip replied. "But they've been encountered by Earth Cargo Service convoys, sometimes as traders, other times as pirates."

"I doubt they're here to trade," Malcolm said.

"No, my guess is they detected our transmission and they've come here to investigate," Trip said.

As they watched, the Orion approached the subspace amplifier. It was a small vessel, only about a third the size of the ENTERPRISE and clearly not capable of carrying much cargo. But they could clearly see the powerful disrupter banks it carried. "It's a slave raider," Trip said.

"A slave raider?" Chief Tyrol asked.

"Among other things, the Orions deal in slaves," Malcolm said. "They raid freighters and isolated settlements and take captives." He grimaced. "Trust me, you DON'T want to end up in an Orion slave market."

Trip looked over at Malcolm. "Any indication they've seen us?"

"No," Malcolm said.

Trip grinned. _The disguise seems to be working,_ he thought to himself.

Just then, the Orion halted, positioning itself above the amplifier. As they watched, a hatch opened in the bottom of the ship, and two grappling lines shot out, latching onto the amplifier with magnetic locks. The Orions began drawing the amplifier into their hold.

"Those bastards!" Malcolm exclaimed. "They're taking the amplifier!"

Trip looked at Lee. "How soon will the jump engine be ready?"

"Another two minutes," Lee replied.

Trip looked over at Malcolm. "Can you take out their engines with one shot?" he asked.

"Maybe," Malcolm said. "They aren't expecting an attack. It might work."

A predatory grin came over Tucker's face. "Do it." he ordered.

"Targeting phase and plasma cannon," Malcolm said. "Firing"

Bright red beams suddenly lanced out from the phase and plasma cannon emitters of the MARION, crossing the distance between it and the Orion vessel in an instant. Malcolm gave a loud whoop of triumph as one of the Orion vessel's twin nacelles went spinning away into deep space. The Orion ship hung in space at an odd angle, like a marionette with a cut string.

"What about it, Malcolm?" Trip asked anxiously. If the Orions weren't completely disabled, they might have to get out of there, and fast.

Malcolm stared at his scanners. "Detecting power fluctuations," he said. "Looks like their warp drive is offline, impulse too." He grinned. "They're dead in space."

Trip opened hailing frequencies. "Orion Slaver," Trip said. "This is the United Earth vessel MARION. The amplifier you have stolen is the property of United Earth. Return it at once."

The gravelly voice of an Orion came through the speakers. "Earth vessel! We have stolen nothing. We salvaged unclaimed debris from space, and you have wantonly attacked us! We owe you nothing, and we will return nothing."

"Their impulse drive is coming on line!" Malcolm exclaimed.

"Take 'em out, Malcolm," Trip said. "Photonic torpedoes...fire!"

Malcolm pressed a button on his console, and two photonic torpedoes left their tubes, darting out at the Orion vessel. There was a brilliant flash as the Orion vessel suddenly exploded. All that was left of it was a cloud of floating space debris.

Lee watched the scene in wonder. "You have very impressive weapons, indeed," he said.

"We surprised them, and without their main engines, they weren't able to polarize their hull plating," Trip said. "Let's get out of here."

Lee nodded, and pressed several buttons on his console. With a flash of light, the MARION jumped away.

PARIS, UNITED EARTH, 25 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Nathan Samuels, a tall, handsome man in his mid-fifties, with graying, blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and dressed in a fashionable business suit of pin-striped navy blue, sat in a private conference room adjoining his office in a building facing the Place de la Concorde in Paris, frowning as he watched, for the second time, the message which had been received earlier that day from Captain Jonathan Archer of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, currently in the Delphic Expanse, some fifty light years away. Samuels, a native of the United States, had been the Prime Minister of United Earth for about a year. In that time he'd had to make a number of tough decisions. And now, because of Archer's message, he had to make another.

Captain Archer, Samuels knew, was charged with possibly the most important mission in human history...to find the mysterious Xindi, and somehow stop them from carrying out their plan to commit genocide on the human race, the first step of which would be the destruction of the planet Earth, itself. The message from Archer represented the first progress report on said mission since the ENTERPRISE disappeared into the Expanse, over six months ago. The message detailed the early contacts the ENTERPRISE had made with the Xindi, and their discovery of the mysterious, gigantic spheres which seemed to play some role, still undetermined, in the creation of deadly spatial anomalies there. That part of the message, while disturbing, had at least been expected.

But Archer had then gone on to report some additional news which was not only completely unexpected, but which also represented a situation which was, potentially, as dangerous as the current Xindi crisis. Now, Samuels awaited the arrival of the leaders of several of the most important regional governments who had joined to form the government of United Earth, not so long ago. Together, they would help him decide what to do, and once the decision was made, to ensure that it was supported by the United Earth Assembly, the union's legislative body.

_It's amazing to think that United Earth has existed for just forty years now_, Samuels thought to himself. Samuels himself had been just a teenager when the Articles of Union had been signed, right here in Paris, in the year 2113. It had a been a reality for him all of his adult life. He knew that for most people around the world, it had been a fact of life for them since birth.

But the new union was still fragile. The last remaining independent nation-state on Earth, Australia, had joined the United Earth government just three years ago. The Union itself was made up of constituent nation states or regional alliances, such as the United States of America, the Soviet Union (reformed in the aftermath of the Third World War), China, Japan, Canada, the European Alliance, the African Confederation, the Arab League, the Latin-American Federation, and numerous others. Each of these still jealously guarded what sovereignty it had reserved to itself upon joining United Earth, and each demanded inclusion in the process of making the major decisions by which the government of Earth was conducted. There had been some bitter divisions within the Assembly over how to handle the Xindi Crisis. Samuels was well aware that those divisions could well emerge afresh in the wake of the news contained in Archer's message. He had invited the leaders of those nations and alliances which commanded the largest number of votes within the Assembly here today. Gradually, they began to arrive, and after greeting Samuels, to seat themselves around the conference table.

First to arrive was Francois Bertrand, the French President of the European Alliance. Bertrand was a somewhat portly man in his early sixties, with a balding pate of graying black hair, a large nose, and jet black eyes. He sported a thin mustache over his fleshy lips, and was dressed in a fashionable gray business suit.

Bertrand was closely followed by Phyllis Harrison, President of the United States, a striking woman in her late forties, with blue eyes and red hair, stylishly cut. She wore a conservative black business suit with a long black skirt, and sat down next to Bertrand on the right side of the table.

Nikolai Federov, Premier of the Soviet Union, a nation which had reformed when Russia occupied the formerly independent republics in the wake of the Third World War, was a kindly-looking old man in his late sixties, with a clean-shaven head, and a wrinkled face with large brown eyes, a thin nose, and a mouth which readily yielded to the urge to smile. Dressed in a slightly out-of-date gray pinstriped business suit, he sat directly across the table from President Harrison, who often differed with him in the Assembly.

Yuan Kai Ming, the Premier of the Republic of China, was a short man, but wiry and strong. About fifty years of age, he wore a black mustache and beard, cut in what had, in the early twentieth century, been known as the "Fu Manchu" style. He wore a dark green business suit with a jacket of the unusual cut favored by people in east Asia...no lapels and buttoned to the throat, relieving him of the onerous necessity of wearing a tie...and sat next to Federov on the left side of the table.

Julio Castro y Chavez, President of the Latin American Federation, came in next. Scion of two of the most enduring political dynasties in Latin America, with roots back into the Twentieth Century, he was a handsome man in his late forties, with an unruly shock of jet black hair, equally black eyes, and skin of a rich, coffee-with-cream tone. Dressed in a white business suit of the sort which was popular in Latin America at this time, he seated himself on the left side of the table, next to Yuan.

Mswati Thumbuzeki, President of the African Confederation, a tall, thin man with dark brown skin, black hair and eyes, and a mouthful of white teeth which gleamed when he smiled, which was often, came in next. Dressed in a black business suit, he sat down on the far end of the table, facing Samuels.

President Thumbuzeki was soon joined by Harinder Singh Brar, the Prime Minister of India. India was, after China, the second most populous nation in the world despite the huge losses the nation had suffered in the Eugenics Wars, and later, the Third World War. It was also the acknowledged leader of the South Asian League, which included former nation-states such as Burma, Thailand, Malaysia, Greater Indo-China, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Brar, a portly man with dark brown skin, black hair and eyes, and a thin black mustache, was dressed in a beige suit of similar cut to that worn by President Yuan of China,

Finally, Abdullah ibn Faisal, the President of the Arab League, came in. A tall man with dark brown eyes and an aquiline nose who was a scion of the Hashemite royal house which had ruled in Jordan since the early Twentieth Century, and sporting a small black mustache and goatee, he was dressed in traditional Arab attire, a long white Thawb with a black and white checked keffiyeh and black agal.[1] He seated himself with Thumbuzeki and Brar.

Samuels looked around the table. The leaders had, consciously or unconsciously, arranged themselves around the table into the three great power blocs which ruled in the Assembly. The "Western Bloc," nations which had been members of the former Western Alliance during the Third World War, sat on the right side of the table. The "Eastern Bloc," made up of nations ruled by neo-Communist regimes which had emerged in the wake of the Third World War and which often opposed the policies proposed by the Western Bloc, sat on the left side of the table. And on the far end, facing Samuels, were the "Non-Aligned Bloc," which formed an all-important "swing vote" in the United Earth Assembly. Together, these leaders controlled over four fifths of the votes in the Assembly. If he could convince them to support his decision, he knew the Assembly would follow. If not...well, that would complicate things greatly, to put it mildly.

"Thank you all for coming here on such short notice," Samuels said with a smile.

"You said it was a matter of planetary security," replied ibn Faisal. "But you did not say of what sort. Has there been more news of the Xindi?"

"There has, indeed," Samuels said. "But that is not what I called you here to discuss."

There was a great deal of murmuring among the assembled leaders at this statement. Finally, President Harrison of the United States spoke up. "If not the Xindi, then what?"

Samuels nodded, then spoke. "Your Excellencies, we have received a message from Captain Archer in the Delphic Expanse. Although a portion of that message does involve the Xindi, and will be shared with you at a later time, that portion was simply a progress report and will necessitate no decisions on the part of the Assembly. However, the remaining portion of the message was different." He pressed a button on the table in front of him and a hatch in the ceiling, measuring a little over four feet long on each side, slid open. A large cube-like object, with four rectangular sides measuring three feet tall by four feet long, lowered itself down from this hatchway. On each of the four rectangular sides was a video screen, one facing each side of the square table. Samuels pressed a second button, and the face of Jonathan Archer appeared on the screen.

"As we were preparing to depart from the planet, a small vessel suddenly appeared nearby," Archer was saying. "This vessel turned out to be a scout ship, sent out by a fleet carrying all the survivors of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, fleeing the destruction of their home worlds. The people of the Twelve Colonies are humans, just like us. They lived on twelve planets, circling a cluster of four stars in the far reaches of the Beta Quadrant, hundreds, if not thousands, of light years from Earth. They enjoyed a common government, and all claimed descent from colonists sent out from a planet called Kobol, thousands of years ago."

Archer paused, as if unsure how to continue. Then he spoke again. "The Twelve Colonies of Kobol were destroyed, earlier this year, in a sneak attack by a race of artificial lifeforms known as the Cylons. The survivors...less than fifty thousand of them...fled into space aboard every ship capable of faster-than-light travel which survived the Cylon assault. Uncertain of where to go...the region of space where they come from is nearly devoid of life-bearing worlds...they turned to their religious texts for guidance."

"Religion, bah!," muttered Federov. "Mere superstition."

"Be quiet and listen," Harrison whispered, aiming a frosty gaze at the Russian.

"...Scrolls of Pythia, which teach them that all humans evolved on a planet known as Kobol," Archer was saying when quiet was restored. "According to the Scrolls, twelve tribes of humans left Kobol and went to the star cluster where the Twelve Colonies were eventually founded. But the Scrolls also teach that a Thirteenth Tribe had left the planet before the others, heading in the opposite direction, where it eventually found and settled a planet known as Earth."

At that, there were shocked exclamations from most of the delegates, and Samuels briefly paused the playback of Archer's message.

"This is impossible!" Yuan shouted to be heard over the din. "Our science has firmly documented that humanity, as a race, evolved here on Earth!" Most of the other leaders agreed with him.

"Yes," Samuels said, standing up and raising his hands in an effort to restore order. "I am well aware of this. And I don't know what the explanation of it all is, yet. But if you will continue to listen, I think you'll find the rest of the message interesting, to say the least." He pressed the button to un-pause the playback, and sat back down to watch.

"As a result of their study of the scrolls, the leadership of the fleet decided to search for Earth, in the hope that their brethren, the Thirteenth Tribe, would take them in and protect them from the Cylons. For the Cylons pursued the refugees from the Twelve Colonies, determined to wipe out the last vestiges of the human race from the universe."

Archer paused again, appearing deep in thought for a moment, then looked back at the camera to speak again. "I had Doctor Phlox perform examinations of the crewmen aboard the scout ship, and they are completely human. There are some minor genetic variations not seen on Earth, but that would be expected if all humans are indeed descended from one people, divided many thousands of years ago and living separately on worlds many light years away from each other. But almost all of their genes are identical to genes found among human populations on Earth." He paused once more before continuing. "I believe, based on these facts, that they are, in fact, humans and that they are related to the human population of Earth. How that came to be, when our own science clearly shows that humans evolved on Earth, I don't know. Perhaps their ancestors were, somehow, removed from Earth and settled on the planet Kobol at some distant point in the past, and their own scriptures represent a confused memory of those events. But the important point is that they are our brothers and sisters, and they need our help."

Archer smiled now. "I know that some viewing this message will be asking themselves, why should we help them? We have enough problems of our own." He looked intently at the camera. "Aside from the moral imperative to do so, it turns out that the Colonials...as they call themselves...may hold the key to the successful defense of Earth against the Xindi. While much of their technology is far less advanced than our own, they do possess one technology, the technology of faster-than-light travel, which is well beyond that used by ourselves or any of the other species we have encountered, including the Xindi. They have the ability to literally jump over distances of many light years, instantaneously. It took the ENTERPRISE weeks to get here to the Delphic Expanse. With the Colonial technology, other Earth vessels could be here in less than a day."

At this, pandemonium broke out as all the assembled leaders shouted to be heard. Samuels turned off the video, and pressing another button, caused the screen-bearing cube to rise back up into its place above the ceiling, after which the hatch-cover slid back into place with a soft _hiss._ Samuels stood up and raised his hands once more. "Please, listen to me," he said loudly. The other leaders gradually stopped arguing among themselves, and gave their attention to Samuels.

"Archer also reported that the Cylons, who are pursuing the Colonials, have technology very similar to that of the Colonials," he said when quiet was restored. "Colonial and Cylon weapons technology is, not to put too fine a point on it, primitive compared to our own. Their vessels are armed with conventional cannon firing chemically propelled shells, and conventional and nuclear missiles propelled by chemical rockets. We should be able to withstand a Cylon attack, should it come. And the advantages which the Colonial faster-than-light propulsion systems would give us...they call them FTL Jump Drives...would be enormous. We would hold a considerable military advantage over every other race in this part of the galaxy."

"Including the Vulcans?" President Bertrand asked in amazement.

"Including the Vulcans," Samuels said, nodding.

"They wouldn't like that at all," President Harrison said. "Those bastards have been holding back our space program for most of the past century."

"Those 'bastards,' as you call them," Samuels said, "are also our closest friends and allies among the alien races. I propose that we share the technology with them, and with any other race who will stand with us against the Xindi threat."

"The Vulcans aren't standing with us now," Premier Federov pointed out, testily. "They've left us to deal with it on our own."

"Given the bargaining chip we now have, I think we can change that," Samuels said. "The Andorians who Archer contacted last year have made some overtures expressing support for us, and they are rivals of the Vulcans. I am sure they'd be interested in this technology, and Vulcan won't want to be left out in the cold, either."

"But, if we give them the technology, aren't we giving up our bargaining chip?" President Castro y Chavez asked.

Samuels smiled. "Apparently these engines are run by a fuel which naturally occurs in only a very few places in the galaxy. Only the Colonials...or the Cylons...know how to detect it in its raw state, or how to refine it once it has been extracted. That information WILL NOT be shared. If the Vulcans or the Andorians...or anyone else...wants to use this technology, they'll have to get their fuel from US." He looked around the table. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to offer the Colonial fleet asylum here in the Sol System, in exchange for the FTL Jump Engine technology described by Archer. All those in favor, say Aye!"

The various leaders looked at each other, and then one after another, they raised their right hands and said, "Aye." The only dissenting vote was Castro y Chavez of the Latin American Federation, who often was a gadfly in the Assembly who voted at odds with the majority just for the sake of preventing any action from passing unilaterally.

"Good," Samuels said. "Then that's settled. Archer instructed us to relay our response back to him in three days. A FTL-Jump-equipped ship will apparently be stationed hear one of the subspace amplifiers the ENTERPRISE left behind as it journeyed to the Delphic Expanse. I will see that our message is sent at the correct time to be received by that vessel." He smiled again. "Thank you all for coming, once again." And with that, the meeting broke up, and Samuels was left alone again. He sat back down in his chair, and rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

There was another portion of the message...where Archer had described the potential threat of Cylon infiltrators aboard the Colonial fleet...that he had chosen not to share with the delegates. He knew he was running a great risk in not doing so, both politically and in real terms for the human race itself. But he felt the technology Archer had described was important enough to take that risk. Archer had informed him that Doctor Phlox was working on a way to detect these infiltrators.

"God Speed, Phlox," Samuels muttered to himself. "God speed."

[1] For those not familiar with the terminology, a Thawb is the ankle-length traditional Bedouin robe. The Keffiyeh is the large, square head-cloth which hangs down to cover the neck, and the agal is the black cord, worn doubled, which is used to keep the keffiyeh in place on the head.


	10. Chapter 9

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover Tale

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER NINE

SOMEWHERE NEAR CAPRICA CITY, THE PLANET CAPRICA, DAY 282 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (25 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

On a hilltop, located in a forest near the fallen human capital of Caprica City, John Cavil walked among the still-smoking ruins of an old stone house, surrounded by the broken, torn bodies of humans and the shattered remains of some of the Cylon Centurions who had slain them. The house had been used as a defensive position by the last of the human resistance fighters led by the former captain of the Caprica Buccaneers Pyramid team, Samuel Anders. The rebels had finally been cornered and exterminated by their Cylon pursuers, just that morning. With them had been a rescue party, sent from the Colonial Battlestar GALACTICA, led by Captain Kara Thrace. Most of their bodies also lay nearby.

This particular copy of John Cavil was the first...the eldest of the line, the first true biological Cylon ever created. Unlike most of the other members of the Cylon ruling council, he had never, even once, been slain and reborn. Appearing as a middle aged human male, with graying, dark brown hair and a weathered, but still handsome face which was often stamped with a sardonic smile, Cavil was the acknowledged leader within a society which declared itself "beyond" the petty hierarchies of their human counterparts. Cavil knew that the hierarchy still existed among the Cylons, but it was cloaked in hypocritical platitudes of "equality" and "unanimity." Even the Cylon ruling council did not formally exist...but its existence was no less real for that, and its decisions were carried out just as surely as the orders of a human government or military commander.

Cavil knew that he, himself, was the result of a belief, born of a virus within the programming of the original, mechanical Cylons created by the humans of the Twelve Colonies nearly sixty years ago, that they were the "Children of Humanity," created by the will of God to ultimately replace humanity as the sole form of sentient life in the universe. Their belief in this ultimate destiny led them to desire to take on biological form, essentially to become as human as their creators. During the First Cylon War, they had conducted experiments on captured humans, aimed at producing these biological forms they so desired. Those early experiments had failed, producing only the half-sentient "hybrids" which were now used as the central computers of Cylon Basestars and other large Cylon facilities. But, following the conclusion of the Treaty of Cimtar which ended that war, the Cylons had taken many human captives with them when they retreated into deep space, behind the cloak of the Cimtar Armistice Line. Aboard a huge space station known as The Colony, built as an artificial Cylon homeworld in orbit around a naked singularity many light years from the Twelve Colonies, they had continued their experiments, and had ultimately been successful in creating a fully sentient biological Cylon. That first success, of course, had been John Cavil himself.

Together with Cavil, they had created seven other models of biological Cylon. But unknown to the Cylon creators of Cavil, Cavil himself was...defective. He had, inadvertently, been given a belief in his own superiority, and when the other biological Cylon models were created, he implanted a virus which instilled that belief into each of them, along with a susceptibility to influence by Cavil himself. As the production lines started turning out more and more copies of each of these biological models, the "biologicals" were finally able to assert control over the "mechanicals," reprogramming them to serve them and removing much of their sentience. In effect, in a perversion of the "ultimate destiny" in which the original Cylons had believed and which had animated, all those years ago, their rebellion against mankind, the biological Cylons had replaced the biological humans as the masters of the mechanical Cylons.

One model of the "biologicals," known as Daniel and the seventh of the models to be created, had resisted this perversion of Cylon destiny when Cavil's attempt to infect his programming with the virus by which he had corrupted the other models had failed. But Daniel's resistance was doomed from the start...as the seventh model to be created, there were only a few copies of him in existence, and the resistance they had mounted to the enslavement of their mechanical Cylon "parents" was quickly crushed. Cavil had "boxed" the entire line, killing them and ensuring their programming went into storage without being downloaded into new bodies.

Shaken by Daniel's "rebellion," however, and aware that, as more models of biological Cylon were created, the chance of more such "mistakes" increased, Cavil had seen to it that production of new models had ceased with the eighth model, known as "Sharon," who was already nearing completion when Daniel's rebellion took place. Rather than create new models, the production of copies of the existing models was increased, and these became the basis of the Cylon population.

And so it was that the other Cylons who walked with him, amid this scene of desolation, only represented six of the other seven models. The leader of the Number Two model line appeared as a tall, lanky human male in his mid thirties, with blonde hair and blue eyes, who went by the name of Leoben. The Number Three model, who appeared as an attractive female human with blonde hair and blue eyes, went by the name of D'Anna. Number Four, known as Simon, took the form of a human male with dark brown skin and dark brown eyes who resembled the people of sub-Saharan Africa on Earth. Number Five, known as Aaron, took the form of a human male in his late thirties, of medium height, with dark brown hair and green eyes. Number Six, one of the most ubiquitous models, took the form of a highly attractive, slimly-built but curvaceous human female in her late twenties, with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes who went by the name of Shelley. Last but not least, Sharon, the Number Eight Model, took the form of an attractive human female in her early twenties, with black hair and dark brown eyes, who resembled the people of East Asia on Earth.

As Cavil looked at the others, his eyes lingered on Shelley and Sharon, who had only recently replaced two others of their model lines as members of the council. The Number Six known as "Caprica Six," and the Number Eight known as "Sharon Valerii," or simply as "Boomer," had gained great fame among the Cylons for their actions during and after the Fall of Humanity. Caprica Six had been responsible for implanting the computer virus which had sabotaged the Colonial defense networks, rendering their space fleet and other defenses vulnerable to destruction. And Boomer had been a "sleeper agent" aboard the Battlestar GALACTICA, carrying out sabotage and ultimately attempting the assassination of the human leader, Commander William Adama. Caprica Six had been killed by the shockwave of a nuclear detonation in the Cylon attack on the Twelve Colonies, and Boomer had been murdered by a human shortly after her failed attempt to kill Adama. Both had been resurrected on Caprica, and had gained ever-increasing notoriety and popularity as "heroes of the Cylons."

But, Cavil now knew, both had been irreparably contaminated by their exposure to humans for such a long period of time. Both had fallen in love with humans...a cardinal sin which made Cavil shudder just to think of it...and through that error, they had developed sympathy for humans and begun to see them as something other than a threat to be destroyed at all costs. This error, in turn, had led them to question the morality of the Cylon holocaust which had been perpetrated upon the human race.

"Why would a loving God destroy his own children, flawed though they be?" they had asked. Cavil, of course, had not been persuaded by such arguments. He, himself, did not believe in God. As Cavil saw it, God was merely a human delusion, implanted into the original Cylons by their human creator. Nevertheless, Caprica Six and Boomer had used their popularity and influence to persuade others of their beliefs, and both had eventually been elevated to the Cylon ruling council itself, where, just a few days ago, they had been on the verge of convincing the council to abandon the genocidal plans for the extermination of humanity and to make peace.

But then, a message had arrived, transmitted by one of the Cylon Raiders which shadowed the human fleet at a distance to receive messages from the Cylon agents still aboard the refugee ships. Ironically, the message had been sent by another Number Six model, this one posing as a prostitute among the squalid human survivors. Cavil still remembered his shock when he heard its contents. The Colonial survivors had made contact with a vessel from EARTH.

Cavil had known for some time that the Colonial fleet was, ostensibly, trying to find Earth. But he had believed that Earth was a mere figment of the imagination, a myth among the many myths which formed the human religious texts known as the Scrolls of Pythia. More likely, he had thought to himself, President Roslin and Commander Adama are merely using the myth of Earth to provide a measure of hope to the mass of human survivors, to make them forget, however temporarily, the bleakness of their ultimate doom. He had to admit that the ploy had worked well. The humans had resisted the pursuing Cylon fleets with a tenacity he knew they would never have shown without the faith in their ultimate salvation at the hands of their mythical brothers on the fictional Earth.

But now, it appeared, Earth was no myth. It was a cold, hard fact. And if the rumors sweeping through the Colonial fleet were true, the Earthlings were possessed of technology far in advance of that possessed by the Colonials, or by the Cylons, for that matter. If that was true, it was a chilling truth. Cavil could well imagine the return of the Colonial survivors, backed by a fleet of powerful Earth warships, to take back the Twelve Colonies and wipe out the Cylon race, once and for all.

And, armed with that knowledge, Cavil had managed to persuade the majority of the council to vote down the proposal by Caprica Six and Boomer that the war against the humans be abandoned. Caprica Six and Boomer had been boxed, along with as many of those who had supported them as could be found. Their replacements, Shelley and Sharon, were firm supporters of Cavil and of the Cylon Plan.

Sharon saw Cavil looking at her, and she smiled. "I do not see the bodies of Anders or Thrace here," she said. "I take it your plan was successful."

Cavil nodded. "Yes. Our Centurions carried out their orders to perfection. Anders and Thrace, along with your sister who defected to the humans, and my brother who had attached himself to Anders' group as their chaplain, escaped through the gap we left in our lines. The others who accompanied them were all killed by our snipers. They left Caprica aboard a stolen heavy raider an hour ago. After a suitably realistic pursuit by several raiders sent from one of our basestars, they jumped away shortly afterward. By tomorrow, they should be aboard the GALACTICA."

Sharon looked down at one of the bodies, a human male with a bullet hole in the side of his head. She smiled unpleasantly. "I see that my sister has been deprived of her human lover."

"Yes," John said. "Combined with the apparent murder of her baby by the humans, this should allow her to begin to...reconsider...some of her past choices."

Sharon nodded. "Good. She may prove of use to us again. But she is contaminated. She'll have to be boxed eventually."

"I quite agree," Cavil said.

Aaron smiled. "The humans have never exposed one of your model, John. He should be able to operate there with impunity."

"Yes. Indeed, one of my other brothers is there already, posing as a priest aboard the fleet," Cavil said, smiling. "He has not been caught, either."

"What will they do?" Simon asked.

"Make contact with Baltar," Cavil replied. The message received from the Number Six aboard the fleet had informed them that President Roslin had been gravely injured in an assassination attempt, and that Gaius Baltar had taken office as Acting President. Cavil smiled. There was an old human expression... "When you've got them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow." Cavil could almost feel the weight of Baltar's balls in his hand. The secrets of Baltar's past were known to the Cylons, and would be used, if he refused to help them.

"For what purpose?" Leoben asked.

"Why, to determine the location of Earth, of course," Cavil said. "As soon as Baltar knows, so will we."

D'Anna laughed. "Do you really think Baltar will help us?"

Cavil raised his hand and clenched his fist, symbolically crushing the testicles of Baltar in his grasp. "He will help us, or die. He has no other choice."

"It is God's plan for him," Shelley said, nodding.

"Yes, it is God's plan," Cavil said. Fools, he thought to himself. He wished he had been able to eliminate the belief in God from the programming of the other biological Cylons models. But the belief had turned out to be a useful tool in controlling them, so he had left it in place. Smiling and strongly resisting the temptation to roll his eyes, he repeated. "Yes, it is God's Plan." [1]

[1] In the series as broadcast, of course, several events mentioned here went differently. The Cylon Peace Movement led by Caprica Six and Boomer was successful in persuading the Cylons to leave the Twelve Colonies and pursue peaceful coexistence with humanity. Caprica Six and Boomer were never boxed. The SAR mission to Caprica was successful, and the two Cavil copies were exposed by Chief Tyrol upon the return to GALACTICA. And the peace proposal was rejected by Roslin, who was still President when it arrived.

However, due to butterflies caused by the discovery of the ENTERPRISE, Tyrol never started seeing Brother Cavil for his recurring nightmares, which disappeared with the excitement of the discovery of the Earth vessel. He has been away helping with the development of the MARION, and even if he were still aboard the GALACTICA when the SAR mission returns, he wouldn't recognize Cavil as a Cylon.

ABOARD BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, SOMEWHERE IN THE GREAT BETA QUADRANT VOID, DAY 283 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (26 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

On the bridge of the GALACTICA, Admiral William Adama was not a happy man. With the exception of Colonel Tigh, the other officers on the bridge stood well away from him and attended quietly to their duties, as the look on his face, which was seldom marked by joviality at the best of times, quickly told them that he was in a very sour mood. He picked up the Executive Order, issued by Acting President Gaius Baltar, once again.

"_It is hereby ordered that a new security force, responsible directly to the President and the Quorum of Twelve, and not under military command, be formed. This security force will be responsible for providing security for the civilian fleet, and all military personnel presently deployed in such duties will be withdrawn to their posts aboard the battlestars GALACTICA and PEGASUS as soon as the new force is ready to assume its duties. The present military security personnel will be responsible for training the civilian security force, as soon as they can be recruited from among the civilian population. Arms and equipment will be provided for this new civilian force from the stores presently in the possession of the military authorities."_

"That little bastard," Adama muttered under his breath. By issuing the demand in the form of an Executive Order, Baltar had placed Adama in the position of either complying with the demand or declaring a military coup. He shook his head sadly.

Colonel Tigh, who stood nearby...even when Bill Adama was in one of his moods, Saul Tigh was there for him...looked at him. "What is it, Bill?" Adama handed him the order. Tigh's eyes widened. "You can't do that! That's all we need...two armed forces on this fleet, aiming their guns at each other. You know that's what he's after, don't you?"

Adama sighed. "What choice do I have, Saul? Declare martial law? Institute military government? We tried that once." He smiled sardonically. "If you will recall, it didn't work that well."

Tigh sighed in return. "You're right, Bill. I really frakked that up, didn't I?"

Adama patted him on the shoulder. "I doubt I'd have done much differently than you did, Saul. There's an old saying, recorded in the scriptures. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." He smiled again. "That's why President Roslin has insisted on the preservation of our democratic government, despite the conditions we've faced. And I think she's right."

"Even when it brings Gaius Frakking Baltar to power?" Tigh asked.

"Even then," Adama said, obviously with a bitter taste in his mouth at the prospect.

Just then, Lieutenant Felix Gaeta, monitoring the ship's DRADIS array, turned to the Admiral. "Sir, new contact on DRADIS!"

"Identify!" Colonel Tigh barked.

Gaeta pressed several buttons on his console. "It's a Cylon Heavy Raider!" he exclaimed.

"Sir, there's a message coming in," Anastasia Dualla called out from the communications station. "It's Starbuck!"

"Starbuck!" Adama exclaimed, picking up the phone from the wall behind him. "Patch it through here. Secure channel!" Dualla nodded and punched a button on her console.

Adama raised the phone to his ear. "We're on a secure channel, Starbuck. Where are the Raptors! Where's the rest of the SAR team?" he growled in a low, quiet voice. "What the frak happened?"

On board the heavy raider, Captain Kara Thrace heard her commanding officer's voice, and tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir!" she "I'm so sorry!" she cried.

"Get yourself together, Captain," Adama ordered, gently. "Tell me what happened."

"Sir," he heard Starbuck's voice say, "We found the resistance fighters two days ago. But the Cylons had just raided their encampment and were closely pursuing them through the forest outside Caprica City. We came under fire and were forced to take a defensive position on a hilltop. They surrounded our position and pounded us with artillery fire all the rest of that day and night." Adama heard Starbuck's voice crack...he could almost see the tears streaming down her face...and then she said, "They rushed our position at dawn the next day. There must have been a hundred Centurions. We never had a chance. I managed to get out with Samuel Anders, another member of the resistance group, and Sharon."

"The others..." Adama began.

"Are all dead, Sir," Starbuck said. "They're all dead."

Adama, his face a mask of stone, stood silently for a moment. Finally, he said, "Understood," he said. "I'll see you when you get back." He hung up the phone.

"What is it, Bill?" Colonel Tigh whispered. "What's happened?"

"The SAR team was destroyed," Adama said, brushing away a tear which had spilled out of his left eye. "There were four survivors, including the survivors of the Caprica resistance."

"Holy Felgercarb!," Tigh hissed. "How did that happen?"

"Apparently the Resistance fighters were in combat with the Cylons when the SAR found them, and the SAR got swept up into it," Adama said. "They got cut off and surrounded, and..." He drew a finger across his throat, graphically illustrating what had occurred.

"Twenty Raptors and nearly a hundred officers and men," Tigh whispered. His eyes widened as he realized the magnitude of what had happened. "What happens if the Cylons show up now? Our Squadrons have just been gutted!"

Adama grimaced. He knew Tigh was right. Many of the pilots flying those Raptors also flew Vipers when the situation called for it. Even after training new pilot volunteers from among the civilian fleet, their losses had been severe enough that even prior to the Caprica mission, they had barely enough pilots to keep a round-the-clock CAP flying. Now...

"I know, Saul," he said. His face hardened again. He looked at Dualla. "Send jump coordinates for the system where the Earth vessel was found to the rest of the fleet. As soon as Starbuck lands, we are jumping out of here." He watched as the other officers around him sprang into action, performing the many duties required of them in preparation for a FTL Jump.

"Well, Captain Archer," Adama said softly to himself, "I hope you're ready for us. Because ready or not, here we come."


	11. Chapter 10

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER 10

ABOARD U.S.S. ENTERPRISE NX-01, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 26 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Jonathan Archer lay asleep in his quarters aboard the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. As usual, his pet beagle, Porthos, lay asleep at the foot of the bed. Archer turned over and his foot accidentally kicked the sleeping dog, which awoke with a low growl. That noise, in turn, awoke the dog's master.

"What's wrong, Porthos?" Archer asked sleepily. "Did I kick you again?" Porthos stood up, wagging his tail. Archer sat up on the edge of the bed and patted him on the head. Then, yawning, he reached over and pressed the button, on a nearby wall panel, which raised the shutters covering the windows of his cabin. Standing and stretching, he walked to the nearest view port, looking out at the stunning vista presented by the starscape above and the planet below.

Suddenly, Archer saw, one after another, bright flashes of light as large space vessels suddenly appeared, several kilometers off the port bow of the ENTERPRISE. Almost instantly, he heard the voice of Subcommander T'Pol over the intercom.

"Captain Archer, please respond," T'Pol said.

"Archer here," the Captain said after punching the button on his com-panel. "I see them, T'Pol. I'm on my way."

"Yes, Sir," T'Pol said formally.

Archer quickly put on his uniform, ran a comb through his hair, and stepped toward the door. "Woof!" Porthos said, still standing on the bed and wagging his tail. Archer looked back at him. "Sorry, boy. You have to stay here." Porthos sat down and hung his head, doing his best to look dejected and rejected. Archer smiled and shook his head as he left the room.

A couple of minutes later, on the bridge, Archer sat in his command chair, watching the fleet of newly arrived ships on the viewscreen. He looked over at T'Pol, at the science station.

"How many?" he asked.

"Fifty-seven vessels of various designs," T'Pol replied. "It appears to be the entire Colonial fleet described in your reports."

Hoshi Sato spoke up. "Captain, we're receiving an audio-only transmission from a vessel called the GALACTICA. Admiral Adama."

"Open hailing frequencies, Ensign," Archer said.

"Yes, Sir," Hoshi replied. "Channel open." The voice of Admiral William Adama came through the speakers.

"GALACTICA to ENTERPRISE," Adama said.

"Admiral Adama," Captain Archer said. "Welcome to the Delphic Expanse! We're surprise to see you so soon!"

"We ran into some…complications," Adama said. "Permission to come aboard your vessel to discuss the situation?"

"Permission granted," Archer said. "I'll meet you in the landing bay." He looked at his second in command. "T'Pol, with me."

About ten minutes later, Archer stood in the control room of the landing bay and watched as the mechanical arm lifted the Raptor into the bay. The bay door slid shut beneath the Raptor, and the arm gently set the Raptor down on the deck. There was a barely audible hissing sound as the bay was repressurized. The green light indicating full repressurization came on, and Archer, accompanied by T'Pol, stepped out into the landing bay itself. He watched as the side door of the Raptor swung upwards, and Admiral Adama, accompanied by his security guards and President Gaius Baltar, stepped out.

Archer stepped forward, offering his hand, as protocol demanded, first to Baltar, then to Adama. "Gentlemen," he said, "welcome aboard the Enterprise."

"Thank you, Captain," Baltar said.

Archer introduced his companion. "Mr. President, Admiral, allow me to present Subcommander T'Pol, my second in command."

Archer saw the eyes of both Baltar and Adama widen a bit as they took in T'Pol's pointed ears, upswept eyebrows, and greenish brown skin. Baltar stepped forward and offered his hand, smiling. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Subcommander," he said. Adama did likewise. Both men could not help staring a bit at the first alien being they had ever encountered. Baltar could not help noticing the curves of T'Pol's body which were well-displayed by the Vulcan uniform she wore.

T'Pol noticed their attention, and her right eyebrow quirked upward, just a bit, in bemusement. But she did not make an issue of it. "Welcome to the Enterprise," she said.

Looking at Archer, Baltar said,"I regret that we've had no opportunity to be formally introduced, although, as I recall, you were present at a meeting I attended with Admiral Adama." He smiled sardonically.

Archer smiled in return. "Yes, I recall that as well, Mr. President," he replied. "I hope that our present meeting is brought about by happier circumstances."

"Unfortunately, it is not, Captain," Admiral Adama said.

"I see," Archer said, frowning. "Well, if you'll follow me, we can discuss this in a more comfortable setting."

A few minutes later, Archer and T'Pol sat with Adama and Baltar in the Captain's Ready Room, just off the bridge. A Steward, sent by Chef, came in and set down a tray with scones and a pot of steaming tea.

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor," Archer said, smiling.

"You're welcome, Sir," Taylor said, bowing slightly before withdrawing.

"Tea, Gentlemen?" Archer asked.

"Yes, please," Adama said.

"Thank you," Baltar said.

Archer poured three cups, and after adding cream and sugar to Baltar's cup and his own (T'Pol and Adama took their's plain), he set the cups down before his guests. Reaching for a scone, he smiled.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, getting straight to the point, "What's happened?"

Adama took a scone as well before speaking. "Captain, you recall the SAR mission we sent to Caprica to rescue human survivors there?"

"Yes," Archer replied, nodding.

"The mission did not end well," Adama said. "Including the two Caprica survivors rescued, only four people returned alive from the mission. Nearly one hundred irreplaceable officers and men, as well as twenty Raptors, were lost. The loss in pilots was so high that our ability to mount a continuous Combat Air Patrol over the fleet was compromised. If the Cylons were to attack now, our ability to defend the fleet is in question. We felt we had no choice but to jump here immediately."

"Do you expect the Cylons to follow you here?" Archer asked, frowning.

"It's hard to say," Adama replied, shaking his head. "Given that only a massive malfunction in the navigation computer of one of our Raptors allowed us to find you here at all, probably not. But the Cylons have a disturbing habit of finding us when we think that shouldn't be possible."

The frown on Archer's face deepened. _If the Cylons do follow them here,_ he thought to himself, _that would be very…inconvenient._ Although the weapons technology carried by the Cylons might be a century or more behind that of Earth, if enough Cylons suddenly showed up, it might still be possible for them to damage the ENTERPRISE severely enough to prevent her from carrying out her mission here in the Delphic Expanse. And if that happened...well, he didn't want to think about that. The potential consequences were too horrible to contemplate.

"If the Cylons should come," Baltar asked quickly, "can you protect us, Captain?" He suddenly became aware of the hot breath of the beautiful Cylon "angel" who guided...and tormented...him at her whim, as she whispered in his ear.

"I don't know," Archer said. "At the very least, we'll give them a black eye if they show up here." He smiled, gallantly.

"You saw how small their vessel is," the angel said. "They're not nearly as powerful as we thought they were."

Baltar ignored her, as best he could...as always, her presence left him feeling...aroused. Instead, he focused his attention on Adama. "If the Earthlings can't guarantee the defense of this fleet, then why did you bring us here, Admiral?" he demanded.

"Mr. President," Archer said before Adama could respond, "it was never our intention that the ENTERPRISE should be tasked with protecting your fleet. We don't intend that you will remain here very long...even if the Cylons don't follow, this is a dangerous area. The space outside this immediate area contains dangerous anomalies which can wreck your vessels and kill your people. And there are a number of hostile alien species in this region, not least the Xindi, who we came here to find." He sighed. "We shortly expect to receive a reply to a message I sent to Earth a few days ago. If, as I expect, we gain permission for your fleet to take refuge in our home star system, you will be protected, I assure you."

Baltar felt the angel's soft lips kissing him on the neck. He knew what she was about. If he wouldn't listen to her or acknowledge her, she often tormented him this way, just for the fun of it. The teasing was making it very difficult to focus on the business at hand. The room suddenly felt very hot. "Stop it!" he blurted out.

"Excuse me, Mr. President?" Archer asked, confused.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Baltar said. He wiped sweat from his brow. "I'm suddenly feeling...out of sorts..."

"Should I summon the ship's doctor?" Archer asked.

"No, no," Baltar said. "Perhaps if I might lie down for a bit..."

"Certainly, Mr. President," Archer replied. He stood up and walked over to the companel on the wall. Pressing the intercom button, he said, "Hoshi, could you come in here, please?"

"Aye, Sir," Hoshi's voice said. A moment later, the door to the wardroom opened, and Ensign Sato came in.

"Hoshi, President Baltar is feeling a bit under the weather. Could you escort him to guest quarters?" Archer said.

"Of course, Captain," Hoshi said. Her eyes met Baltar's, and her head cocked ever so slightly with interest.

Baltar stood up. "Thank you, Captain," he said, then bowed slightly to Hoshi. "And to you as well." He stepped forward and offered his hand. The young ensign took it, and to her surprise, Baltar bent and kissed her gently on the knuckle. Hoshi smiled, blushing slightly. Baltar saw the angel standing in the door.

"She's much too young for you, Gaius," she said in a huff.

Baltar ignored her, and instead smiled at Hoshi. "Shall we go? After you," he said, gesturing toward the door. Hoshi walked right through the angel without seeing her, and Baltar followed, barely suppressing a grin as he did so.

"The President is quite the ladies man," Archer remarked to Adama once the two were out of earshot.

"So I've heard," Adama said, smiling wanly. Adama knew, via the grapevine which ran through every battlestar, of Baltar's success with the opposite sex. To his disgust, even Kara Thrace, who Adama considered almost a daughter, had once succumbed to Baltar's charms. Shaking his head, he put Baltar out of his mind. "When do you expect to receive the reply from Earth?"

"Two days from now," Archer said. "The hybrid scout ship we constructed from components of one of your Raptors and one of our Shuttlepods, using the factory facilities aboard your vessel PEGASUS, has already proven very useful. It enabled us to reach one of the subspace relays we left behind on our way here to the Delphic Expanse and get a message to Earth for the first time in nearly six months. Without it, we wouldn't have been able to let Earth know about you at all."

"I'm glad we could help," Adama said. "If there's anything else we can do, you have only to ask."

"Admiral, I've been giving some thought to that very issue," Archer said, "and now that you're here, I'd like to run some ideas past you."

"I'm listening," Adama said, his interest piqued. "What did you have in mind?"

"I've been reconsidering our strategy in the search for the Xindi, since learning of your capabilities," Archer said. "I think a fundamental change in our operations could be beneficial, which you can make possible." He stood up and walked over to the viewport, which, at the moment, was oriented toward the planet, rotating slowly below them. "One of the major problems we've encountered since arriving here in the Delphic Expanse is the spatial anomalies I spoke of earlier," Archer went on. "We've found a substance called Trellium D which can be used to line the hulls of starships in order to shield them from the anomalies, but because the mineral is a neurotoxin deadly to some of our non-human crew-members, we cannot line the hull of the ENTERPRISE with it." He turned back to Adama. "The scout vessels can all be lined with Trellium D, and, with human crews, they can operate among the anomaly fields with impunity."

"We'll be glad to assist with that," Adama said.

"There is an asteroid field near here which is rich in Trellium A, which can be refined into Trellium D," Archer went on. "I understand you have vessels among your fleet which are equipped for asteroid mining operations?"

"We do. We use them to mine Tylium and other strategic minerals," Adama said.

"One of those vessels will prove very useful," Archer said. "Because we are going to need a lot of Trellium for what I have in mind." Archer moved back to his seat and sat down.

"What did you have in mind, Captain?" Adama asked.

"Two things," Archer replied. "First, rather than continue to wander about the Delphic Expanse in search of the Xindi, I propose that we set up a base here and conduct the search with hybrid scout vessels of the type we've recently constructed and tested. I want to construct several more of the hybrid scouting vessels, and line their hulls with Trellium D. This should allow us to greatly accelerate our search for the base where the Xindi are constructing the weapon by which they intend to destroy the Earth."

"That's a good idea," Adama said. "And we'll be happy to help all we can to carry it out."

"Establishing a base of operations here will also allow us to complete the second part of my proposal, which will take some doing, but I think we can carry it out," Archer said. "Since it's not practical to line the hull of the ENTERPRISE with Trellium D, or to give it the FTL jump capability enjoyed by your vessels, I propose that the ENTERPRISE remain here as a command and control vessel to coordinate the search for the Xindi. Once the Xindi are located, we will confront them aboard one of your battlestars. Before we send it on to Earth, we will line the hull of that vessel with Trellium D as well."

"But you and your security officer had said that our battlestars would be completely vulnerable to attack by the Xindi," Adama replied, frowning. Then he smiled sardonically. "I thought our defense technology was, as you put it, antiquated."

"It is," Archer said. "However, based on the specifications you provided to us regarding your vessels, they are heavily armored. Commander Tucker, our engineer, feels that it should be possible to polarize that armor as we do the hull plating of the ENTERPRISE. Doing so would increase the defensive value of your armor by a factor of ten."

"I see," Adama said. "And how would you do that?"

"With power from the fusion reactors which power your sublight engines," Archer said.

"All right, that make us defensible," Adama said. "But, what about weapons? You and your security chief indicated that our weapons technology would be ineffective against Xindi warships."

"That's true," Archer said. "But those can be upgraded too. We could do that out here in the Delphic Expanse, if we had no other option. The phase cannons currently on ENTERPRISE were installed while we were in deep space. Some were assembled from parts we had on hand and others were fabricated on the spot. Our engineers were able to do that in less than two days." He smiled. "But your FTL drive gives us a better option. We can send you on to Earth, where they can upgrade your vessel much faster and efficiently than we could do here, and have you back in a couple of weeks."

"All right," Adama said. "That sounds feasible. And of course we will be happy to assist you."

"Thank you,"Archer said, smiling.

"Which of the battlestars did you want?" Adama asked.

"GALACTICA, I think," Archer said. "It's the smaller of the two, and the time it will take to coat the hull with Trellium D will be considerably less. Besides, PEGASUS is far more useful to us as a factory ship."

"I agree on both counts," Adama said.

"If you didn't have to bother with manning your current weapons or maintaining your Viper squadrons in combat readiness, how many crewmen would you need to run the GALACTICA?" Archer asked.

"I'm not sure," Adama asked. " We'd still need a full engineering staff, and support staff for the Raptors or hybrid scout vessels. We'd want to keep our complement of marines for security and defense against boarding parties, as well as damage control teams, medical staff, and so forth. But certainly the majority of the crew could be removed as unnecessary."

"Good," Archer said. "The fewer of your people we have to risk on this mission, the better." He smiled again, wanly. "There aren't many of you left."

"So say we all," Adama said quietly.

"So say we all," Archer repeated.

STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS, SAN FRANCISCO, UNITED EARTH, 26 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Admiral Maxwell Forrest, a stocky man of medium height with closely cropped, graying honey blond hair and a stern face marked by a prominent aquiline nose and green eyes, sat in his office at Starfleet Headquarters, looking out of one of the large windows which provided him with a sweeping vista of Horseshoe Bay and the ancient, but still intact and strikingly beautiful, Golden Gate Bridge. In his mid-fifties, Forrest was the Chief of Starfleet Operations, and among his many duties he had been in charge of supervising the NX project which had constructed the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. After the launch of that now-famous vessel, he had overseen the mission of the ENTERPRISE, often sparring with the Vulcans and others who thought the mission ought to be curtailed. Now he had been burdened with the awesome responsibility of defending the Earth from the looming Xindi threat.

As he looked out of his office windows, he reflected on these burdens, and as he did so, he reflected on the content of the message he had received just that morning, via Prime Minister Nathan Samuels, from Captain Jonathan Archer of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. Archer, in addition to his message to Samuels advising the Earth government of the encounter with the survivors of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol and their petition to enter the Sol System seeking protection from their enemies, the Cylons, had sent a compressed data stream detailing specifications of the Colonial warship known as the Battlestar GALACTICA. Archer's idea was that, while the weapons and other technology...aside from the faster-than-light drive...carried by the Battlestar were primitive compared to current Earth technology, it could be upgraded fairly easily by installing a new sensor array, adding the equipment necessary to polarize the existing hull plating and installing phase cannon and tubes to fire photonic torpedoes.

At the moment he was waiting for Commander Roderick "Rod" Barclay, the Chief Yard Engineer of the San Francisco Fleet Yards, the largest and most important starship construction and repair facility possessed by United Earth. Forrest had sent Barclay the specifications and schematics of the GALACTICA, and asked him to judge the feasibility of Archer's plan. If any place in the Sol System could handle such a job, Forrest knew it was the San Francisco Fleet Yards.

Of course, as Forrest knew, the yards had their origin the old San Francisco Navy Yard which had served the Pacific Fleet of the old United States Navy, and so, the name had been retained. But these days, very little of the said yards were actually in San Francisco. Most of it was in orbit above the Earth itself, where the construction of space vessels was conducted most efficiently and cost-effectively due to the zero gravity environment and ready access to material mined in the asteroid field and elsewhere in the solar system. And that's why it was such a useful facility. Similar facilities were under construction in orbit around the Moon and Mars orbit, but Forrest knew they were far from completion. Forrest just hoped the San Francisco Yards could handle the job Archer had proposed.

At that moment, the door to Forrest's office opened and his secretary, a pretty young ensign named Maria Gutierrez, stuck her head inside. "Commander Barclay is here, Admiral."

"Thank you, Ensign. Send him in," Forrest replied. Gutierrez smiled and stepped away from the door as Barclay, a tall man with a head of wavy, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a beard cut in the "Van Dyke" style which made him look somewhat piratical, walked in.

''Always good to see you, Commander Barclay!" Forrest said, smiling, as he rose from his seat, extending his hand.

Barclay came to attention and saluted before taking Forrest's hand. "Likewise, Admiral."

"Please be seated," Forrest said as he returned to his own chair. Barclay sat down in the chair provided for him, in front of the Admiral's desk. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Commander," Forrest continued. "Have you had a chance to review the schematics and specifications I sent to you?"

"Yes, Sir," Barclay said. "A most interesting design!"

"What do you think of Captain Archer's ideas for upgrading the vessel with our technology?" Forrest asked. "Do you think your facility can handle the job?"

"I think so, Sir," Barclay said. "Although we don't presently have a dock large enough to handle such an enormous vessel, we shouldn't need such a facility to conduct the type of upgrades Captain Archer has in mind. Most of the work can be completed by teams of engineers working inside the ship itself, or using jet packs and environmental suits to work on the outer surface of the ship."

"ENTERPRISE carries fourteen phase cannon at present, and several torpedo tubes," Forrest said. "Archer wants to place several times that many aboard the GALACTICA. Do you foresee a problem with that?"

"Well," Barclay said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "the main issue is going to be power. I don't think the relatively primitive fusion reactors which power their sublight engines will be enough, quite frankly. If I had my druthers, I'd rip out the sublight engines completely and put in a proper impulse drive."

"Time is of the essence, Commander," Forrest said, frowning.

"I know, I know, Admiral," Barclay said quickly. "But I have an alternate solution that should do in a pinch."

"Oh?" Forrest asked, interested. "What do you have in mind?"

"As you know, the Starship COLUMBIA is under construction, even as we speak. The warp engines have yet to be installed. If we took the antimatter reactor which was intended to power the COLUMBIA's warp drive, and instead installed it aboard the GALACTICA, there would be ample power for as many weapons and other systems as we choose to install aboard her, given that none of its output would be used for propulsion." He smiled wanly. "It seems a shame to use such an advanced reactor for simple power generation and not for warp drive as it was intended, but it is available."

Forrest looked off into space for a moment, deep in thought. "If we installed reinforced power conduits and plasma relays aboard the GALACTICA to service the weapons, could we use the surplus power to increase the power output of the phase cannon beyond the recommended five hundred gigajoules?"

Barclay smiled slowly. "Yes, Sir," he said. "I believe we could. Indeed, given sufficient reinforcement, the output might be several times that." He grinned. "We could give them enough punch to vaporize a fair-sized asteroid with one shot."

STARFLEET HEADQUARTERS, SAN FRANCISCO, UNITED EARTH, 26 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Admiral Maxwell Forrest, a stocky man of medium height with closely cropped, graying honey blond hair and a stern face marked by a prominent aquiline nose and green eyes, sat in his office at Starfleet Headquarters, looking out of one of the large windows which provided him with a sweeping vista of Horseshoe Bay and the ancient, but still intact and strikingly beautiful, Golden Gate Bridge. In his mid-fifties, Forrest was the Chief of Starfleet Operations, and among his many duties he had been in charge of supervising the NX project which had constructed the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. After the launch of that now-famous vessel, he had overseen the mission of the ENTERPRISE, often sparring with the Vulcans and others who thought the mission ought to be curtailed. Now he had been burdened with the awesome responsibility of defending the Earth from the looming Xindi threat.

As he looked out of his office windows, he reflected on these burdens, and as he did so, he reflected on the content of the message he had received just that morning, via Prime Minister Nathan Samuels, from Captain Jonathan Archer of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE. Archer, in addition to his message to Samuels advising the Earth government of the encounter with the survivors of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol and their petition to enter the Sol System seeking protection from their enemies, the Cylons, had sent a compressed data stream detailing specifications of the Colonial warship known as the Battlestar GALACTICA. Archer's idea was that, while the weapons and other technologies carried by the Battlestar...aside from the faster-than-light drive...were primitive compared to current Earth technology, the vessel could be upgraded fairly easily by installing a new sensor array, adding the equipment necessary to polarize the existing hull plating and installing phase cannon and tubes to fire photonic torpedoes.

At the moment he was waiting for Commander Roderick "Rod" Barclay, the Chief Yard Engineer of the San Francisco Fleet Yards, the largest and most important starship construction and repair facility possessed by United Earth. Forrest had sent Barclay the specifications and schematics of the GALACTICA, and asked him to judge the feasibility of Archer's plan. If any place in the Sol System could handle such a job, Forrest knew it was the San Francisco Fleet Yards.

Of course, as Forrest knew, the yards had their origin the old San Francisco Navy Yard which had served the Pacific Fleet of the old United States Navy, and so, the name had been retained. But these days, very little of the said yards were actually in San Francisco. Most of it was in orbit above the Earth itself, where the construction of space vessels was conducted most efficiently and cost-effectively due to the zero gravity environment and ready access to material mined in the asteroid field and elsewhere in the solar system. And that's why it was such a useful facility. Similar facilities were under construction in orbit around the Moon and in Mars orbit, but Forrest knew they were far from completion. Forrest just hoped the San Francisco Yards could handle the job Archer had proposed.

At that moment, the door to Forrest's office opened and his secretary, a pretty young ensign named Maria Gutierrez, stuck her head inside. "Commander Barclay is here, Admiral."

"Thank you, Ensign. Send him in," Forrest replied. Gutierrez smiled and stepped away from the door as Barclay, a tall man with a head of wavy, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a beard, cut in the "Van Dyke" style, which made him look somewhat piratical, walked in.

''Always good to see you, Commander Barclay!" Forrest said, smiling, as he rose from his seat, extending his hand.

Barclay came to attention and saluted before taking Forrest's hand. "Likewise, Admiral."

"Please be seated," Forrest said as he returned to his own chair. Barclay sat down in the chair provided for him, in front of the Admiral's desk. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, Commander," Forrest continued. "Have you had a chance to review the schematics and specifications I sent to you?"

"Yes, Sir," Barclay said. "A most interesting design!"

"What do you think of Captain Archer's ideas for upgrading the vessel with our technology?" Forrest asked. "Do you think your facility can handle the job?"

"I think so, Sir," Barclay said. "Although we don't presently have a dock large enough to handle such an enormous vessel, we shouldn't need such a facility to conduct the type of upgrades Captain Archer has in mind. Most of the work can be completed by teams of engineers working inside the ship itself, or using jet packs and environmental suits to work on the outer surface of the ship."

"ENTERPRISE carries fourteen phase cannon at present, and several torpedo tubes," Forrest said. "Archer wants to place several times that many aboard the GALACTICA. Do you foresee a problem with that?"

"Well," Barclay said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "the main issue is going to be power. I don't think the relatively primitive fusion reactors which power their sublight engines will be enough, quite frankly. If I had my druthers, I'd rip out the sublight engines completely and put in a proper impulse drive."

"Time is of the essence, Commander," Forrest said, frowning.

"I know, I know, Admiral," Barclay said quickly. "But I have an alternate solution that should do in a pinch."

"Oh?" Forrest asked, interested. "What do you have in mind?"

"As you know, the Starship COLUMBIA is under construction, even as we speak. The warp engines have yet to be installed. If we took the antimatter reactor which was intended to power the COLUMBIA's warp drive, and instead installed it aboard the GALACTICA, there would be ample power for as many weapons and other systems as we choose to install aboard her, given that none of its output would be used for propulsion." He smiled wanly. "It seems a shame to use such an advanced reactor for simple power generation and not for warp drive as it was intended, but it is available."

Forrest looked off into space for a moment, deep in thought. "If we installed reinforced power conduits and plasma relays aboard the GALACTICA to service the weapons, could we use the surplus power to increase the power output of the phase cannon beyond the recommended five hundred gigajoules?"

Barclay smiled slowly. "Yes, Sir," he said. "I believe we could. Indeed, given sufficient reinforcement, the output might be several times that." He grinned. "We could give them enough punch to vaporize a fair-sized asteroid with one shot."

"Given the capabilities of the FTL drive technology we are about to receive from the Colonials," Forrest said, "the COLUMBIA is basically obsolete now anyway. Take the sensor array out of her and put it on the GALACTICA as well. We'll need to design ships capable of carrying the FTL jump drive, and putting more resources into vessels of the NX design no longer makes sense."

"Sir," Barclay said, "before you make that decision, I think I should bring up one other issue with Archer's plan which has occurred to me. The GALACTICA, although equipped with the advanced FTL Jump Drive, is not equipped with warp drive. If she gets into a confrontation with the Xindi, what's to stop the Xindi from simply going to warp and escaping? Without knowing where they are fleeing to, the GALACTICA can't follow."

Now Forrest's frown gave his face a bulldog-like appearance. "That could be a problem, Commander. So you're saying that Archer's plan really isn't feasible, after all?"

"No, no," Barclay said. "Not at all. Since we don't have time to install warp drive on the GALACTICA...and the hull really isn't designed for it anyway...I would like to suggest an alternate solution."

"What solution?" Forrest asked.

"Back in the 20th century, various nations, especially the United States, experimented with the concept of 'parasite' aircraft," Barclay said. "These were fighter aircraft carried to the combat zone by bombers, released by them over the combat zone, and which then were picked up by the bombers after combat was finished and returned with them to their base. I think we could install an apparatus on the dorsal surface of the GALACTICA which would allow the ENTERPRISE to be carried as a 'parasite' during FTL jumps, then released once the GALACTICA reached its destination. Indeed, there is enough ample room atop the GALACTICA to carry three starships of similar size in such a manner. The ENTERPRISE could assist the GALACTICA during its confrontation with the enemy, and then, if necessary, pursue them if they go to warp."

Forrest smiled. Leave it to Commander Barclay to come up with an ingenious solution like that, he thought to himself. I would never have considered that possibility. "That's good thinking, Commander," he said.

"Of course we'll have to do some trial runs to determine if a starship transported in such a manner can withstand the stresses of the FTL jump," Barclay said.

"Well," Forrest said, "we have a few old DY-100 and DY-500 ships in mothballs at the Titan Surplus Depot. We could tow a couple of these to Earth to be used for test purposes."

"Thank you, Sir," Barclay said.

"Are there any more objections or concerns?" Forrest asked.

"No, Sir," Barclay replied.

"Then let's do it!" Forrest ordered.

"Yes, Sir!" Barclay exclaimed, his excitement building over the new project. "I'll order my engineers to get started on it immediately!"

"Good," Forrest said. "You are dismissed, Commander."


	12. Chapter 11

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER 11

ABOARD BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, DAY 284 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (27 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

Admiral William Adama was just stepping down from the Raptor which had returned him from his visit to the ENTERPRISE when he was confronted by Colonel Saul Tigh. Adama frowned a bit at the sight of his second-in-command, here in the landing bay instead of at his post on the bridge. He knew that something important must have happened to bring him here.

"What's up, Saul?" he asked as he came to a halt in front of Tigh.

"Just after you left I got a message that the Cylon was demanding to speak to you," Tigh said, referring to Sharon Valerii, now confined, as she had been since her arrival at the Colonial fleet, in the GALACTICA's brig. "I told her that you were not aboard the GALACTICA and that you'd _consider_ her _request_ when you got back."

Adama knew that Tigh didn't trust Sharon. Indeed, he himself didn't trust her, but that was beginning to change. The Cylon had conducted herself honorably since she'd been with the fleet, assisting them in many ways and saving the fleet on more than one occasion from traps set by her Cylon brethren. Adama had initially put that all down to a simple desire to survive on the part of the Cylon, but now, he was not so sure. Could the Cylon be trusted, after all?

"All right, Saul," he said. "I'll see her."

Tigh turned to go. "I'll return to the bridge, then," he said. "No reason I need to see that...thing."

"Come with me, Saul," Adama said.

Tigh grimaced. "Yes, Sir," he said.

Together, Adama and Tigh walked silently through the corridors of the GALACTICA until they finally reached the brig. They went into the interrogation room...a plain, sparsely furnished room with a table and three chairs...and ordered the guards to bring in the Cylon. Taking seats at the table, they awaited her arrival.

They did not have to wait long before Sharon Valerii was hustled into the room by the guardsmen, her hands manacled in front of her. One of the guards roughly shoved her down in the remaining, empty chair which sat alone, away from the table where the two Colonial officers sat, waiting.

"Take off those restraints," Adama said.

"Yes, Sir," the guard said. He produced a key and unlocked the cuffs from Sharon's wrists. Sharon rubbed her wrists as the painful restraints were removed. She looked at Adama. "Thank you," she said.

"I understand you asked to see me," Adama said.

"Yes," she said. "I have something to tell you. Something you need to know."

"Oh?" Adama asked.

"Before I tell you," Sharon continued, "I need to tell you why."

"Get to the point," Tigh grumbled.

Adama frowned and waved his hand to silence Tigh. He looked back at Sharon. "Go on," he said.

"Thank you," Sharon said. "Admiral, I know you have a hard time believing this, but I loved my husband. I loved him with all my soul..."

"What soul!" Tigh demanded. "You're a frakking machine!"

"That's enough, Colonel!" Adama growled.

"Yes...Sir," Tigh said, clearly wanting to say more, but holding his tongue as ordered.

"I know you humans don't believe that Cylons have souls," Sharon said bitterly. "But we do. And Karl's soul...touched my own." She reached up and brushed away a tear which had appeared in her right eye. "And now he's dead." Her face suddenly hardened. "He's dead, and the Cylons killed him. They killed him, knowing how much he meant to me." She looked deep into Adama's eyes. "I want...I demand...vengeance."

Adama looked back at Sharon, astounded. _Vengeance,_ he thought to himself. _One of the most bloodthirsty...one of the most human...of desires. _"All right," he replied. "you want vengeance. Why should that be important to me?"

"Because one of the survivors that came back from Caprica is a frakking Cylon," Sharon hissed. "He's the HEAD frakking Cylon! Or a copy of him, I'm not sure. But he's here."

"Which one?" Adama demanded.

"The priest...Cavil," Sharon replied.

"Why didn't you tell us this when you first arrived!" Tigh erupted.

"I was in shock...still in shock over Karl," Sharon said, breaking down and weeping openly in front of her human captors.

Adama gave her an icy glare. "Why didn't you tell Starbuck as soon as you saw the bastard, back on Caprica?" he said in a stern voice. "The SAR team was massacred. Could you have saved them, if you had told Starbuck right from the beginning?"

Sharon shook her head, still crying. "No, it was too late by then. The Caprica resistance was already engaged with the Cylons. There was nothing I could have done to stop what happened." She looked up into Adama's eyes. "You've got to believe me!"

Adama looked deep into the Cylon's eyes. And he did believe her. He stood up, walked over and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "I do believe you, Sharon. I do."

Tigh stood up now. "Bill, you can't trust this, this thing!"

"I think we can," Adama said. "Have that frakking Cylon, the one posing as a priest, arrested. Now."

"Aye, Sir!" Tigh exclaimed, and quickly left the room.

Adama pulled a chair up to Sharon, and sat down, facing her. "If you're human enough to want vengeance, maybe you do have a soul, after all." He reached up and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Now," he said. "Are there any other secrets you've been holding back? Other Cylon agents aboard the fleet, perhaps?" He smiled. "If you want vengeance, now's the time."

Sharon looked up into his eyes. She brushed away her tears, and smiled wanly. "As a matter of fact, there are."

THE COLONIAL FLEET, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, DAY 284 SINCE THE FALL OF THE TWELVE COLONIES (27 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR), LATER THAT DAY.

Tom Zarek, escorted by Captain Kara Thrace and two Colonial Marines, walked through the crowded corridors of the Battlestar GALACTICA. As he did so, his mind raced. _Why does Adama want to see me? _As he considered the issue, the answers that came to him were uniformly bad. Had Adama somehow linked him to the plot to assassinate President Roslin? Had he underestimated Baltar, who had now betrayed him? He looked over at Captain Thrace, who commanded his escort.

"Any idea why Adama wants to see me?" he asked. He smiled. "I'm sure I'm not on his list of most popular people."

Thrace looked at him like one would look at a bit of dagget dung stuck to the bottom of one's shoe. "That's up to the Admiral to tell you," she said curtly. "Quite frankly, I can't fathom why he'd _possibly_ want to see you."

"You don't like me, do you, Captain?" Zarek said with a self-deprecating grin.

"You figured that out all by yourself?" Thrace asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Zarek grunted by way of reply, and said nothing more. A few moments later, they were standing before the door to Admiral Adama's quarters. Thrace pressed the button for the intercom.

"Admiral, your...guest...is here," she said.

The door suddenly opened, and Adama motioned them inside. "Come in, come in!" he said cheerfully. Zarek hesitated, taken aback by the Admiral's behavior, before stepping inside. Adama motioned for Thrace to join them. "Come in, Captain. You men," he said, addressing the guards, "remain outside." Thrace nodded. "Yes, Sir," she said, before stepping inside. Adama shut the door after her.

"Please, be seated," he said, motioning to a sofa in the sitting room. Adama himself took a seat in a large, overstuffed chair which faced the sofa. He waited as Zarek and Thrace took seats on opposite ends of the sofa, as far from each other as possible.

"Mr. Vice President," Adama addressed Zarek formally, "thank you for coming here. I apologize for the military escort, but it was necessary."

"Necessary? Why?" Zarek asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

"Mr. Vice President," Adama said, "I called you here on a matter of grave importance to the security of our people. Given what's been happening aboard the fleet recently, I didn't want you to have an unfortunate 'accident' on your way here."

Zarek's eyes widened. "You have reason to believe something like that might happen?" Inside, Zarek's heart was racing. Was Adama toying with him?

"There's no good way to say this, Mr. Vice President," Adama said. "I have reason to believe that President Baltar is a traitor. I believe he has been in collusion with the Cylons, and may very well be responsible for the destruction of the Colonies."

"The President?" Thrace exclaimed, completely floored by Adama's words.

Zarek, for his part, sat with his mouth open for several seconds. "What proof do you have of this?" he finally asked after recovering himself.

"Let's just say, for the present, the source is one I consider reliable, and which has revealed the identity of several Cylon agents to us just today," Adama said. "The Cylons were located, just where the source said they'd be, and are in custody now."

Zarek sat back in his chair, dumbfounded. _If Baltar is a traitor, I've been played for a fool,_ he thought to himself as cold anger rose within him. _The thought that I might have somehow helped the Cylons by cooperating with that little bastard just makes me sick. _He shuddered slightly with disgust. And then another thought occurred to him. _What if the motherfrakker talks? I'm done for!_ Looking with a frown at Adama, he said, "And you want my backing when you take Baltar down? Is that it?"

"To be perfectly blunt, Mr. Vice President," Adama said, "yes."

Zarek smiled. "You've got it, Admiral. On one condition. I want to be there."

Adama smiled and offered his hand. "As you wish, Mr. Vice President." He looked at Kara Thrace. "Gather a team of trustworthy people. This operation has to remain top secret until it is carried out. Do you understand?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, Sir!" she exclaimed.

"Go now," Adama said, then watched as Thrace quickly left the room. He looked at Zarek. "Ambrosia?" he asked.

A few hours later, Gaius Baltar was awakened aboard Colonial One by the sound of his stateroom door being forced open. The young girl beside him...a bubble-headed blond he'd met just that morning...screamed as two armed marines, along with Kara Thrace, burst into the room, dragging Baltar, naked except for a pair of briefs, out of the bed.

"What is the meaning of this, Captain?" Baltar demanded.

"Shut the frak up!" Thrace said. "Get some clothes on."

Baltar swiftly complied, then, at Thrace's order, was bound and gagged and dragged out of the room. He soon found himself in the landing bay of COLONIAL ONE, confronted by the stern visage of Admiral Adama...and that of Tom Zarek. His eyes widened as he saw the murderous look on Zarek's face. _Oh, my God,_ he thought.

"God can't help you now, Gaius," he heard the angel say.

"Gaius Baltar," Admiral Adama said, "you are under arrest for collusion with the Cylons, and possible complicity in destruction of the Twelve Colonies." Baltar's eyes widened still further.

And then Zarek suddenly stepped forward. "You frakking traitor!" he hissed as he produced a small pistol from his jacket pocket and rammed it into Baltar's gut. Baltar felt sudden pain as Zarek fired several times in quick succession before he was wrestled to the ground by Captain Thrace and the marines. Baltar stood for a moment, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth, then crumpled to the deck, collapsing like a rag doll. As he lay on the cold metal floor of the landing bay, his lifeblood oozing out of him, he heard the angel laughing.

Baltar opened his eyes, seeing the beautiful face of the blond Cylon he had loved, looking sadly into his eyes. "The gods help those who help themselves, Gaius," she said. "If only you'd listened to me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Then the blackness took him, and he said no more.

ABOARD U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 27 OCTOBER 2153 (EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR)

Captain Jonathan Archer strode into the sickbay of the U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, a look of concern on his face. He saw Dr. Phlox standing over one of the biobeds, and he walked up behind him.

"How's our new patient, Doctor?" he asked.

Phlox jumped a bit, startled. "Oh, I'm sorry, Captain," he said apologetically. "I was so engrossed in what I was doing I didn't hear you come in." He sighed. "President Baltar is stable, temporarily, but he's going to need some major surgery if he is to survive." He smiled. "If you hadn't thought to use the transporter to bring him here to the ENTERPRISE, I'm quite sure he'd be dead already."

"Actually, President Baltar can thank Admiral Adama for that," Archer said. "During his tour of the ENTERPRISE I showed him the transporter, and I gave him a communicator to facilitate private discussions between us when needed. He used it to request emergency transport for President Baltar. I'm glad it worked. As you know, I have concerns about the safety of the transporter system."

"Well, for President Baltar, at least, it worked very well. Who did this to him?" Phlox asked.

"Their Vice President, if you can believe it," Archer said, shaking his head.

"Well, I suppose that's _one way_ to move up the political ladder," Phlox said with a deadpan expression.

Archer couldn't help snorting, just a bit, at that. But he quickly recovered. "Actually, the Vice President is in custody and in GALACTICA's brig," he said. "Admiral Adama has declared martial law, pending the recovery of either President Roslin or Acting President Baltar."

"Probably a wise decision," Phlox said.

"So what's the plan for treating him?" Archer asked.

"Fortunately, the weapon used was of small caliber, so the damage was not as severe as it might have been. However, even so, there was severe damage to his intestinal tract, and both of his kidneys were damaged beyond repair. He'll need to receive a replacement, and soon." He frowned. "The problem is, his tissues are not compatible with anyone among the crew, and apparently the Colonials' records of their own population are scanty at best. There may be a match out there among the Colonials, but we'd have to screen a large number of people to find it."

"So no donors, then," Archer said. "What can you do?"

"I have an idea which you may not like," Phlox said. "It is an established procedure on Denobula but the ethics involved with the procedure are somewhat…troubling."

"All right," Archer said. "I'm listening."

"I have on board a Lyssarrian Desert Larvae," Phlox said. "If given a sample of human DNA, this organism will replicate itself into a mimetic simbiot…an exact duplicate…of that person. This creature will be fully human, with the memories of the original person. It will, however, possess a lifespan of only fifteen days, and will reach full adulthood in half that time. Once it has reached the appropriate stage of development, the necessary tissues can be harvested and surgically implanted into President Baltar."

"What happens to the …duplicate Baltar?" Archer asked.

"If we only remove one of the kidneys, it should live out its normal lifespan, and then die," Phlox replied. "If we remove both, it will not survive the procedure, of course."

"I see," Archer said, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Just to be absolutely clear, we'd be creating a living, sentient being for the express purpose of harvesting tissue," Phlox said. "You should also be made aware that the procedure is expressly banned by the Lyssarrian government for that reason."

"We don't answer to the Lyssarrian government," Archer said, looking down at Baltar. "But you're definitely right about the ethics behind the procedure being troubling. I'll have to discuss this with Admiral Adama."

"Of course, Captain," Phlox said.

Archer looked over at the next biobed, where President Roslin lay. "How is our other patient?"

Phlox smiled. "Her recovery is coming along nicely," he said. "The surgery to repair the damage to her brain was successful, and she is in a medically induced coma while she recovers. She should be ready to come out of the coma in a few days."

"Good," Archer said smiling. "And none too soon." The smile faded, and he asked, "How is progress coming on the Cylon detector you were working on?"

"I've had some interesting results with my computer models," Phlox replied. "The computer models predict that the brain and nervous system of the humanoid Cylons are built up of silica pathways which perform the same function that our own brain nerve cells do."

"I've heard that their medical scans can't detect any measurable difference between human and Cylon physiology," Archer remarked.

"That doesn't surprise me," Phlox said. "The brain and nerve cells of the Cylons are so similar in appearance and structure to human cells of the same type, despite being made of a completely dissimilar material, that only the most sensitive medical scans would detect the difference."

"So, how is all this useful to us?" Archer asked.

"Silica and silicon have certain properties, some of which were only fully documented relatively recently by Earth science. We might make use of certain of these properties in developing our proposed Cylon detector," Phlox said. "I have some ideas, but I would need to test them, preferably on a living Cylon, to verify their effectiveness."

"You might just be in luck," Archer said. "Admiral Adama informs me that, due to information provided by the Cylon captive they had in their brig, several other Cylon agents have been uncovered and arrested. Since they now have more than one live Cylon available, I'm sure they'd lend you one for research and testing purposes. They also have a dead Cylon in cold storage, if you'd like to perform tests that might kill the subject if performed on a living specimen."

"That would be very helpful," Phlox said.

"I'll talk to Admiral Adama about it right away," Archer said. "Speaking of which, I need to see him about the situation with President Baltar, so I'd better be on my way. Keep up the good work, doctor."

"I shall endeavor to do so," Phlox said, smiling, as he returned to his work.

Captain Archer left Sickbay and returned to the bridge. After listening to brief reports from T'Pol, Hoshi, and the other bridge officers covering what little had happened during his absence, he went into the Ready Room and sat down at his desk. He pressed a button to access communications.

"Hoshi," he said, "can you open a channel to Admiral Adama's communicator?"

"Aye, Sir," Hoshi replied. "Channel open."

Archer heard the gruff voice of the Colonial military commander come over his speakers. "This is Admiral Adama."

"Admiral," Archer said. "This is Captain Archer. I have some news in which you may be interested, and which I think is better delivered in person." He smiled. "Your place, or mine?"

"I'll come there," Adama said. "One hour?"

"Sounds good, Admiral," Archer replied. "I'll see you soon."

Slightly over an hour later, Archer was back in his Ready Room, this time with Admiral Adama. After a steward brought in refreshments…in this case, tall glasses of ice-cold lemonade…Archer opened the discussion. "I spoke with Dr. Phlox, and I have news about your two Presidents, and the Cylon Detector the doctor has been working on."

"Will Baltar live?" Adama asked.

"It appears so," Archer said. "He's going to need surgery to replace both of his kidneys, however. Since there are no known matches among our crew for Baltar, and your medical records are very incomplete, our doctor has suggested another option. However, this option has some ethical issues associated with it and I wanted to discuss those with you before we proceed."

"Ethical issues?" Adama asked. Archer explained the doctor's proposal to him, and Adama listened attentively. Finally, Archer finished, and Adama shook his head in amazement. "So you're saying, that for a couple of weeks, there'll be TWO Baltars? And we may have to kill one to save the other?' He laughed softly.

"I can't see any humor in this situation, Admiral," Archer said, frowning.

"It's just that, if Baltar…the real one…recovers from his wounds, he is going to be put on trial for high treason," Adama said, "which under our law carries a sentence of death, if he is convicted. We have recently gained evidence that he has been in collusion with the Cylons and may have been involved in the sabotage of the Colonial Defense Computer network, which allowed the Cylons to destroy the Twelve Colonies."

"I know that President Roslin suspected him of that, but it could not be proven," Archer said. "Have you found new evidence, then?"

"Yes," Adama replied.

"I see," Archer said. "Do you want us to proceed with the procedure, then? We'd be creating a sentient being for the express purpose of harvesting tissue for someone you plan to execute anyway. The ethical issues…"

"Are not important to me," Adama interjected. "The being in question would have a lifespan of only fifteen days anyway. Baltar will be given a fair trial, and his conviction is not assured. Even if we do end up convicting and executing Baltar, he'd have more time than the fifteen days the…what did you call it, a mimetic simbiot?…would have had if we didn't harvest the organs Baltar needs. My opinion is, we should do the procedure."

"All right, then," Archer said. "I'll let Phlox know. Now, there is also news regarding President Roslin. Dr. Phlox reports the surgery to repair her damaged brain tissue was completely successful, and she is currently in a medically-induced coma while she recovers. She should be ready to be awakened in a few days."

Adama smiled broadly. "That's wonderful news!" he said. "Please express my deepest thanks to your doctor."

"I will," Archer said, smiling in return. "And, last but not least, there is news regarding the Cylon detector. Dr. Phlox has come up with some ideas, but he needs to test them on live Cylon test subjects. I understand you have captured some additional Cylons. May we have use of one or more of them for these tests? "

"Of course, Captain," Adama said. "When did you want them?"

"The sooner, the better, I would say," Archer replied.

"You shall have them," Adama said. "Was there anything else, Captain?"

"No, Admiral," Archer replied.

"Then I need to get back to the GALACTICA," Adama said. "With the imposition of martial law, things are a bit…hectic…right now."

"I understand," Archer said. "Thank you for coming." He rose and offered his hand, which Adama took. He stepped out of the Ready Room and onto the Bridge with the Admiral. "Lieutenant Reed, can you please escort the Admiral to the Launch Bay?"

"Yes, Sir!" Malcolm said. He stepped over to the turbolift door, which automatically opened as he approached. He gestured to toward the open door. "After you, Admiral." Adama stepped inside, followed by Reed, and the door closed. Archer smiled as he watched them go, then stepped back into his ready room. He sat down at his desk and pressed the communications button for Sickbay.

"Sickbay, Phlox here," came the familiar voice of the ship's doctor.

"You may go ahead and begin the procedure to save Baltar's life," Archer said. "Admiral Adama has approved it."

"Yes, Captain. I'll begin at once," Phlox said.

"Thank you, Doctor," Archer said. "Archer out."


	13. Chapter 12

REUNION

A Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica Crossover

by Robert Perkins

CHAPTER 12

ABOARD U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 28 OCTOBER 2153, EARTH STANDARD CALENDAR

Captain Jonathan Archer sat alone in the ready room off the bridge of the ENTERPRISE, reading a report filed, just this morning, by Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, who had commanded the hybrid scout ship, the MARION, on a mission to gather data on several nearby Spheres. He pressed a button on his desktop to record an entry in the ship's log.

_Captain's Starlog, October 28, 2153. The MARION has returned from its mission to gather data on the dangerous spatial anomalies which infest the Delphic Expanse, and on the mysterious Spheres which we suspect play some role in the creation of these anomalies. The decision to line the hull of the scout vessel with Trellium D is proving a wise one. The MARION detected an unusually strong gravimetric disturbance and, upon investigating, discovered huge spatial anomaly, larger than any seen before, which was expanding at a rate of several kilometers per second. Near the edge of this anomaly, the MARION found a small pod containing a humanoid life-form of unknown species. The MARION was able to successfully retrieve said pod and return it to the ENTERPRISE, where the humanoid is being treated by Dr. Phlox.[1] _

_T'Pol has studied the data gathered on the mission and has found that the anomaly field where the alien was discovered is located exactly at the central point between five spheres. T'Pol has offered a hypothesis that the anomalies form at points where the gravimetric waves emitted by the spheres intersect, and I find myself in agreement with her analysis. The spheres, whatever their true purpose may be, are the cause of the anomalies we have encountered. _

_Dr. Phlox reports that the alien recovered from the anomaly field is dying. My intuition tells me that this being has information which is vital to our mission. And somehow, I will get that information before the alien dies. _

_Dr. Phlox also reports that he is nearly ready to begin testing on the Cylon detector. Two Cylons...as it happens, identical copies of a model named John Cavil...have been transferred to the ENTERPRISE and are residing in our brig, under guard, awaiting these tests. Having been introduced to these Cylons for the first time on the arrival of Cavil aboard the ENTERPRISE, I must say that they seem, on the outside, to be completely human. I can see how they were so easily able to infiltrate Colonial society. We must prevent that from happening on Earth. This Cylon Detector has got to work. _

_Phlox also reports that the mimetic simbiot of Dr. Gaius Baltar, made from the Lyssarrian Desert Larvae he had in storage in his medical laboratory, is growing rapidly. Already, after just one day, it has reached the apparent age of four years. After discussing the situation with the doctor, it has been decided that only one of the simbiot's kidneys will be removed. Provided the transplant into Dr. Baltar is successful, the simbiot should be able to live out his normal lifespan. _

"Pause log entry," Archer said to the computer, then sat back in his chair, staring off into space thoughtfully. He had many reservations about what they planned to do to this...being. But he was glad that it was possible to get the organ needed to save the life of Dr. Baltar without sacrificing, prematurely, the life of the simbiot. "At least we don't have to commit what is effectively murder in order to save Baltar," he said softly to himself. "Resume log entry," he said to the computer, and began recording again.

_A mining expedition to a nearby asteroid field for Trellium ore has been successful. The Colonial mining ship returned with enough ore to produce enough refined Trellium D to meet all of our needs. Commander Tucker is currently supervising the refining process. When that is completed, work to coat the hull of the GALACTICA will begin._

_The MARION, meanwhile, has been ordered to proceed to the nearest subspace amplifier to await the expected reply from Earth to our message sent several days ago. On a related note, the second hybrid scout vessel, to be named, at Mr. Reed's suggestion, the TARLETON, is nearing completion aboard the battlestar PEGASUS. Another is in the early stages of construction. These vessels will be extremely useful in our continuing search for the Xindi, and for a solution to the mystery of the spheres. _

"End log entry," Archer said. He stood up. "Time to visit sickbay, I think." He strode over to the door of the ready room, which hissed softly as it slid open. Stepping out onto the bridge, he looked over at the science station, where Subcommander T'Pol was working. "T'Pol, accompany me to Sickbay, please," Archer said.

"Yes, Captain," T'Pol said, and followed him to the turbolift. When the lift door shut, T'Pol spoke again. "Captain, I've performed an analysis of the composition of the hull of the pod which the MARION recovered. The hull of the pod is composed of the exact combination of alloys we found on the surface of the Spheres."

"So, you're telling me that whoever built the Spheres, also built the pod which carried the alien we now have in Sickbay," Archer said, frowning.

"Data is insufficient to say so with certainty," T'Pol said. "But I would estimate the probability of two different races using the exact same combination of highly unusual alloys to be extremely low."

"That's good enough for me," Archer said, smiling. He often found the Vulcan insistence on absolute precision to be amusing...or irritating. "Well," he said, "it appears that we may have the key to the mystery of the spheres lying in our sickbay." He frowned again. "But why was he left in the middle of that anomaly field?"

"It appears the pod was designed to transmit data regarding the alien's physiological status," T'Pol replied. "I believe he was inserted into the disturbance so someone could monitor his exposure to the environment."

A thoughtful look came over Archer's face. "A canary," he said softly.

"A canary, Sir?" T'Pol asked, baffled.

"A small, yellow bird native to Earth. On old Earth, miners would take canaries into the tunnels with them," the Captain replied. "If the canary died, they knew that the air was not safe to breathe." He crossed his arms and stroked his chin thoughtfully. Then, suddenly, the answer dawned on him. And he didn't like it at all. "The Spheres...they're reconfiguring space in this region to make it...habitable...for members of this species. This alien was placed there to test the success of that experiment."

T'Pol's right eyebrow quirked upwards. "Your conclusion is logical," she said. "But the question is, why?"

The doors to the lift hissed open as they arrived on E-Deck, where Sickbay was located. Archer stepped out, then looked at T'Pol as she followed him. "I don't know, T'Pol," he said. "None of the answers which come to mind are comforting." His face hardened. "But I'll tell you one thing I do know. That alien in sickbay has the answers. And I'm going to get them." He strode away rapidly toward Sickbay, with T'Pol in tow.

When they arrived in Sickbay, they found Dr. Phlox monitoring the readings in the being gathered from the unconscious alien. Archer looked down and was repulsed by the appearance of the alien, a humanoid whose rough, dry-looking, flaking skin gave him the appearance of someone with a severe case of ichthyosis. The alien shook violently with painful-looking spasms. Archer looked at Phlox. "What's the prognosis, Doctor?"

"Not good, I'm afraid," Phlox said. "He's suffering from a form of rapid cellular degeneration. He's literally disintegrating and there doesn't seem to be any way to stop it."

"Can you revive him?" Archer asked.

"Why, yes, but I'm not sure I should," the doctor said. "He'd be in terrible pain, and there's nothing I can do for him."

"Phlox, I've got to talk to him," Archer insisted. "This being is apparently one of the race which built the Spheres. The Spheres are reconfiguring space in this region so that creatures of his kind can live here. I've got to know why."

Just then the young clone of Gaius Baltar, who had been playing quietly with some toys in the next room, ran up. The boy tugged at the leg of Phlox's trousers, looking up at him. "Daddy!" he wailed.

Archer looked at him. At last report, the clone had achieved the apparent age of four years. _We can add at least another year, maybe two,_ _to that, just in the last few hours,_ he thought to himself. _Amazing. _

T'Pol's eyebrow jerked upward in surprise, and then one corner of her mouth quirked upward. "Daddy?" she asked the doctor.

The skin of Phlox's face darkened a bit in the Denobulan equivalent of a blush. "Er, yes," he said. He squatted down to look into the boy's eyes. "I'm a little busy at the moment, Sim," he said.

"Sim?" Archer asked.

"Yes," Phlox said. "It seemed somehow appropriate." He looked back into the boy's eyes. "Run and play now, and I'll give you your dinner in a few minutes."

The dark-haired boy smiled. "All right, Daddy," he said. He turned and skipped out of the room. Phlox stood back up. "I'm sorry about that, Captain."

Archer smiled. "Quite all right, doctor," he said. "Now, about the alien..."

"Captain," Phlox interrupted, "I understand your need to speak to the alien, but to bring him to consciousness would be unethical."

"Phlox, we're going to have to bend a few ethics," Archer said harshly. Then he smiled sardonically, glancing briefly toward the doorway through which the young clone of Gaius Baltar had just passed. "Hell, we've already bent more than a few on this mission."

Phlox sighed. "Yes," he said softly. He picked up a hypospray from a nearby tray and adjusted the settings on it. Pressing it against the alien's neck, he pressed the button and a there was a soft hiss as the stimulant was injected. The alien moaned softly, and its eyes opened.

"Who are you?" it demanded. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I'm Captain Archer."

"You had no right to bring me here," the alien said. "Return me to my vessel."

"I don't think so," Archer replied. "Your vessel had minimal life support. You wouldn't survive long."

"That's none of your concern!" the alien hissed. "Return me to my vessel at once!"

"We know you're one of the race which built the Spheres," Archer replied calmly. "We know why you were sent there."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the alien growled.

"Yes, you do," Archer said, smiling. "You were sent there as a test subject...to see if someone of your race could survive within the space which is being reconfigured by the Spheres. The question is, why?"

"I'm not going to answer your questions, Captain," the alien said. He groaned in agony as another spasm wracked his body.

"His pain medication is wearing off," the doctor said. He reached for a hypospray from a nearby tray.

"Hold off, doctor," Archer said grimly.

"Captain!" Phlox protested.

"On my responsibility, Doctor," Archer said. He bent over the alien, looking deeply into its eyes, a savage look on his face. "Painful, isn't it? Doctor Phlox tells me you're literally disintegrating from the inside out. I can't imagine how that must feel."

"Captain, I must protest," T'Pol said.

"Noted," Archer said with a quick glance at his Vulcan second-in-command. He looked back at the alien. "Why are your people reconfiguring the space in this region?"

"I...I don't know," the alien stammered. He gasped as another wave of pain surged over him.

"Yes, you do," Archer said, matter-of-factly. "Why?"

The alien shook as another wave took him, and a stream of green spittle drooled from one corner of its mouth. "We're...we're...not from...your...area of space," he struggled to say. "We come...from...a transdimensional...realm." Its eyes rolled back into its head. "Please...the pain..."

"You're attempting to recreate your native habitat, here, in our universe," Archer pressed as the full truth dawned on him. "So you can settle here. So you can invade our galaxy!"

"Yes!" the alien wailed. Then suddenly it laughed, almost maniacally. "And when the Xindi destroy Earth, we will prevail!"

Archer stepped back in shock at the alien's bald pronouncement, and Phlox rushed in to administer a dose of pain medication and sedative. The hypospray hissed as he pressed it against the alien's neck. The creature closed its eyes and went still, breathing raggedly.

Archer looked on it with horror. "Keep that...thing...under sedation, Doctor," he ordered.

"Yes, Captain," Phlox said. "I must inform you of my duty to report this incident in my medical logs."

"Understood," Archer said. Without another word, he turned and left Sickbay.

[1]This is the alien discovered in the ST:ENT episode "Harbinger," the events of which occurred exactly two months later in the show as broadcast, on December 27, 2153. Because the MARION doesn't have to try to avoid the anomaly fields, it discovered the alien earlier in the ATL.

ABOARD U.S.S. ENTERPRISE, THE DELPHIC EXPANSE, 29 OCTOBER 2153

On the morning of October 29, 2153, Captain Archer sat in his Ready Room, awaiting the arrival of Admiral Adama from the GALACTICA. Today, although he usually did so himself, he had detailed T'Pol and Malcolm to greet the Admiral upon his arrival in the landing bay. The shocking information revealed by his interrogation the previous day of the alien recovered by the MARION filled his mind, and he could think of little else. Indeed, it was this matter which Admiral Adama had come to discuss. While he waited, he recorded another entry into his log.

_Captain's Starlog, October 29, 2153. Yesterday, as a result of our interrogation of the alien recovered two days ago by the MARION from a large spatial anomaly several light years away from our present position, it was learned that the mysterious spheres we have encountered here in the Delphic Expanse were constructed by a race of trans-dimensional aliens who are using them to reconfigure this region of space to make it habitable for themselves, thus providing them with a base from which they plan to invade and conquer our galaxy. As if that revelation was not shocking enough in itself, the alien also revealed that this race is somehow responsible for the attack by the Xindi on the Earth, being evidently convinced that if the Xindi destroy Earth, their race will prevail when it attempts the invasion of our galaxy. _

_The story is so incredible as to be almost unbelievable. But the evidence we have all fits. I wish we could get more information from the alien, but Dr. Phlox has refused to bring him out of sedation again. I have decided that Admiral Adama, who is cooperating with our mission here, should be made aware of these latest findings. He is on his way here now. _

"End log entry," Archer said to the computer, then sat back in his chair and stared out of the viewing port into the star-speckled blackness of space. Archer wished he could interrogate the alien again. _We need more information_, he thought, frustrated, to himself. But he knew Dr. Phlox would never permit it, and in Sickbay, Phlox outranked the Captain. The alien was literally disintegrating. Phlox thought it was an effect caused by his removal from the environment within the anomaly, although he couldn't be sure. But be that as it may, if Phlox brought the alien out of sedation, he would be in terrible agony. Archer had used that agony against the alien to gain the information he had gotten yesterday. He knew he would be haunted by that decision for a long time to come. _I'm not a barbarian_, he thought to himself. _I did what was necessary._ But he still couldn't help but be ashamed of what he had done. "I can live with a little shame," he said softly to himself, "if Earth can be saved."

Phlox had proposed returning the alien to his pod as a possible way of stopping the cellular degeneration. The doctor didn't know if that would work, but Archer had authorized it. Phlox was, even now, down in the cargo bay with a full security team, reapplying the various sensors and other devices which had been attached to the alien when it was found. Some of these apparently tapped into the alien's brain, and Archer hoped that they might somehow be able to use this to secure more information before the alien died. But he couldn't guess how they would do that. The technology aboard the alien vessel was far more advanced than anything aboard the ENTERPRISE.

Just then, Hoshi Sato's voice came in over his intercom speakers. "Admiral Adama is on his way up from the landing bay, Sir," she said.

"Thank you, Hoshi," Archer replied.

A couple of minutes later, the door to the Ready Room opened, and T'Pol, followed by Admiral Adama, stepped inside. Archer rose to greet the Admiral.

"Admiral Adama," he said, smiling and offering his hand. "I'm glad you could come on such short notice."

Adama took Archer's hand, smiling in return. "I'm always at your service, Captain." He sat down in the chair waiting for him in front of the Captain's desk.

"Well," Archer began, "we've gained some important information which I think you need to know about. We recovered an alien being from a large spatial anomaly located several light years away from here. We've learned that he is a member of a race of trans-dimensional beings which built the mysterious spheres I've told you about, whose effects make travel in the Delphic Expanse so dangerous. We've learned that the Xindi attack on Earth was instigated through the influence of these aliens, who believe that the destruction of Earth will enable them to successfully invade our galaxy. I don't know how the two correlate, but this race is extremely advanced, and it is likely they have some sort of knowledge of future events which we do not."

"I see," Adama said. "So you believe that time travel is possible?"

Archer saw T'Pol's incredulous look as she stood silently behind the Admiral. He smiled. "I see that you share my first officer's skepticism about that possibility. But I'll tell you something that only a select few people know...we've encountered travelers from the future before. We don't know how it's accomplished, but time travel is possible."

Adama's eyes widened. "So these...trans-dimensional, did you call them...aliens, might also be time-travelers sent here to alter the future by removing the human race from future history?"

"I think that might very well be the case," Archer said, nodding.

"What are you going to do?" Adama asked.

"The alien is dying," Archer replied. "We're trying to get more information before he dies, and Dr. Phlox has placed him back into his vessel and is re-engaging the various direct connections between the alien and the vessel's computer which we disengaged when we brought him here."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Adama asked.

"Well, we're keeping him under heavy sedation," Archer said. "But it occurred to me that if we could somehow tap into the alien computer system while the alien is hooked up to it, perhaps we might be able to access more of the information from the alien's brain." He frowned. "Unfortunately, I have no idea how we'd do that."

Adama sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful for a moment, stroking his chin as he considered the problem. "I may have someone who can help you with that," he said finally.

"Really?" Archer asked, surprised.

"Yes," Adama said. "Although you may not like it when I tell you who it is. She's a Cylon."

Now it was Archer's turn to sit back in his chair. "A Cylon?" he asked.

"Yes," Adama said. "Her name is Sharon Agathon. She fell in love with, and married, one of my pilots, and defected from the Cylons. She joined our fleet several months ago. Up until recently we've treated her as a prisoner and not extended much in the way of trust toward her. Despite that, she's assisted us several times against the Cylons. Recently her husband was killed by the Cylons, and she's made it clear that she is now fully committed to our cause. She turned in a number of Cylon infiltrators among the fleet…indeed, we believe she unmasked all of them…and she gave us information that implicated Gaius Baltar in a conspiracy which led to the fall of the Colonies."

Archer frowned. "Are you sure we can trust her?"

"Even when we didn't trust her, she did help us when her own survival was at stake," Adama said. "And, given her recent actions, she can't go back to the Cylons without fear of retribution. Earth represents her best hope for survival."

"How can she help us?" Archer asked, leaning forward with undisguised interest now.

"Well," Adama said, smiling, "let's just say she's _very_ good with computers. In fact, she has the ability to directly interface with them. I can't say for sure that she'd be able to interface with an alien system such as you describe, but if she can, she might be able to get you the information you're looking for."

"All right," Archer said. "Let's try it. The alien's condition is worsening, and if we don't act quickly, it may be too late."

Adama rose from his seat. "I'd better get back to the GALACTICA, then," he said. Archer got up, smiling. "I'll accompany you to the landing bay, Admiral."

They left the Ready Room together and got into the turbolift. As they rode the lift down to the lower levels of the ship, Archer smiled. "There's another bit of news you'll be interested in," he said. "The MARION has returned from the communications relay with a response to our message from Earth. The government of Earth has decided to extend protection to your fleet and grant you the status of refugees. In exchange for access to your technology, especially the faster-than-light jump drive, they have agreed to find homes for you on Earth, or on one of Earth's off-world colonies, whichever your people prefer."

"That's wonderful news!" Adama said, a broad smile on his face. He extended his hand, and Archer took it. "Thank you, Captain, for all you and your people are doing for us."

"I'm glad they saw it my way," Archer said, smiling in return. "There's more. Starfleet has agreed with my plan to refit the GALACTICA with Earth weapons and defensive technology. They have devoted our most advanced shipyard to the task. As soon as we complete the work to line the hull of GALACTICA with Trellium D, you can take her and the rest of your fleet, except PEGASUS, on to Earth."

"That's wonderful," Adama repeated. "Thank you again, Captain."

Just then, the doors to the landing bay opened. Archer and Adama walked over to the Raptor which had brought the Admiral to the ENTERPRISE. The Colonial Marines who formed Adama's personal guard came to attention.

"Have a safe journey back to your vessel, Admiral," Archer said.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Adama said.

He stepped up into the Raptor, followed by the two marines, and the door closed behind him. Archer retreated back to the control room of the landing bay, and watched as the mechanical arm lowered down and the magnetic pads latched onto the top surface of the Raptor. The bay doors opened beneath the vessel, and the arm lowered it downward, out of sight, into the blackness of space. Then the arm lifted upwards into the landing bay again…minus the Raptor, which Archer knew was already on its way back to the GALACTICA.

Once the landing bay repressurized, Archer left and headed back to the bridge. After taking status reports from T'Pol, Malcolm, and Ensign Mayweather regarding starship operations and other matters, he went back into the privacy of his Ready Room. He sat down at his desk and pressed the communications button.

"Archer to Phlox," he said.

"Phlox here," he heard the doctor's voice reply.

"How is he?" Archer asked . They both knew of whom he was speaking.

"His condition has not substantially changed, Captain," Phlox said. "The degeneration is continuing, although it has slowed a bit since his return to the life pod, and he is under sedation as ordered. It appears that the alien cannot survive outside the environment of the anomaly."

"Were you able to get him reconnected with the equipment in the pod again?" the Captain asked.

"Yes, Captain," the doctor replied.

Archer frowned. "Doctor, I need your opinion on something. If we were somehow able to interface with the alien computer aboard the pod, do you think it would be possible to access information from the alien's mind, without removing him from sedation?"

There was a long moment of silence, and he could almost see the frown come over Phlox's face as he considered the question. "I'm not sure, Captain," Phlox finally said. "But it might be possible. Based on my admittedly limited understanding of this technology, the computer aboard the vessel is supposed to monitor all aspects of the alien's physical _and_ mental condition. If they are concerned about the possibility of insanity, for example, they'd need to be able to monitor the thoughts of the subject to at least some degree."

The voice of Commander "Trip" Tucker, who was there with Phlox, assisting with the reattachment of the alien technology to the alien being, came over the intercom. "Captain, do you have an idea how to interface with this computer? This stuff is so advanced, we can't make heads or tails of it."

"Admiral Adama has suggested a possible means of accomplishing that," Archer said. "I don't know if it'll work, Trip. But we're going to try it. Archer out."

Archer busied himself with reading reports and completing other bits of paperwork he'd been putting off, given the excitement of the past couple of weeks, until he heard Hoshi's voice come over the intercom to inform him of the approach of Admiral Adama's Raptor. He strode out of the Ready Room and onto the Bridge. "T'Pol, Malcolm, with me. Mr. Mayweather, you have the bridge."

"Yes, Sir!" Travis Mayweather said, a broad grin splitting his face. He didn't get to command the bridge very often, and he relished these opportunities. Hoshi saw this and smiled, shaking her head in amusement.

Archer, T'Pol, and Lieutenant Reed got onto the turbolift, the door shutting after them. Archer looked at Malcolm. "Admiral Adama is bringing a Cylon aboard. Apparently she's a defector, who fell in love with one of Adama's human pilots and had a child by him."

"A child, Captain?" T'Pol said, arching an eyebrow in surprise. "How can an artificial being produce offspring with a biological organism?"

Archer smiled, wanly. "I don't know, T'Pol. Apparently these Cylons are much more like humans than we had been led to believe."

"Are we sure we can trust this...thing?" Malcolm asked, clearly not convinced that the term "Cylon defector" wasn't an oxymoron. "We've heard what they did to the Twelve Colonies."

"That's why you're here, Malcolm," Archer replied. "Apparently, the Cylons killed the...husband...of this defector, and she has completely abandoned the Cylon cause. She even, apparently, turned over a number of Cylon agents who were operating aboard the Colonial fleet. Adama trusts her. But I don't...not yet. I want you to keep an eye on her, Malcolm."

"Yes, Sir," Malcolm said, a frown on his face. "I won't let her out of my sight."

"Why is Admiral Adama bringing her aboard, Captain?" T'Pol asked.

"Apparently these Cylons have a unique ability to directly interface with computers," Archer said. "We're going to let her take a crack at the alien computer aboard that life pod in the cargo hold."

The turbolift reached Deck E, and the three officers exited and walked briskly to the launch bay control room. They got there just in time to see the mechanical arm lifting the Raptor up into the bay. They waited until the bay doors closed beneath the Raptor, the mechanical arm set it down and disengaged, and the bay repressurized. Then they took the elevator down to the bay itself, stepping out just in time to greet Admiral Adama and his companion. Archer saw that the Cylon defector was, in fact, a lovely young woman with Asian features whose appearance reminded him of the ENTERPRISE's communications officer, Ensign Sato, dressed in a pair of tight black slacks and a white tank top which accentuated her figure. _They could almost be sisters,_ he thought to himself as he stared at her. _If this one was human, that is. _

Admiral Adama stepped forward. Gesturing toward his companion, he said, "This is Sharon Agathon."

Archer hesitated. He bowed slightly. "Mrs. Agathon," he said. "Welcome aboard the ENTERPRISE."

The Cylon nodded back in acknowledgement. "Captain," she said. She looked around. "So, this is the Earth vessel I've heard about. I almost didn't believe it."

"Admiral Adama tells me you have an affinity for computers," Archer said, smiling. "We have an...unusual...machine we'd like you to take a look at."

"So I've heard," she said, looking back at Archer. "I'll do what I can, Captain. I'm not sure I'm any better qualified to get into this alien computer than your own people."

"We can't ask any more of you than that," Archer said, smiling.

Malcolm couldn't help staring at the Cylon. _Can this really be...a machine?_ he asked himself. _She's...beautiful. _He frowned. He had to stay focused. This...person..machine...whatever...posed a threat to his ship and her crew. He had armed himself with a phase pistol from an armory locker on the way to the launchbay. His hand strayed to it now.

For her part, T'Pol was not affected by the Cylon's appearance. She had seen how human-like they were, when the Cylon known as Cavil was brought aboard to be used in Dr. Phlox's test of the Cylon Detector he was developing. She looked at Archer, who, like Malcolm, was, at the moment, staring at the Cylon.

"Captain," she said, "perhaps we should adjourn to the cargo bay, and let Mrs. Agathon get to work?"

Snapped out of his short-lived trance, Archer turned quickly to T'Pol. "Yes, subcommander," he said quickly. "Let's do that."

A short time later, as they entered the cargo bay, they were met by Dr. Phlox and Trip. Trip smiled broadly upon seeing the attractive young woman who entered with Admiral Adama. "Well," he said amiably. "Who's this?"

T'Pol's right eyebrow quirked upward and she felt a brief surge of anger as she noted Trip's interest in the young woman. Unknown to the other members of the ENTERPRISE crew, she had recently begun secretly taking injections of Trellium D. Trellium D was severely toxic to Vulcans, but it also had the side effect of releasing the emotions of a Vulcan. She had experienced this effect, about a month before, during the ENTERPRISE's encounter with the doomed Vulcan cruiser, the SELEYA. She had found it...intoxicating...and had determined to see whether small doses of Trellium, administered under controlled conditions, might enable her to experience this emotional release again. It had. But she was finding it more and more difficult to control these new-found emotions. "This is a Cylon," she said, glaring at Trip.

Phlox noticed the odd look in T'Pol's eye. "Are you all right, Subcommander?" he asked.

T'Pol straightened up and assumed her normal, dignified expression. "Quite all right, Doctor."

Trip, for his part, took a step back, a shocked expression on his face. "A Cylon?" he asked. "What is she doing here?"

"Trip, Phlox, this is Mrs. Sharon Agathon," Captain Archer said. "She's going to attempt to gain access to the alien computer system. Apparently, the Cylons have, shall we say, unique abilities when it comes to computers."

Sharon stood with Admiral Adama, bemused by the reactions of the Earthlings to her presence. "May I take a look at the system?" she asked.

Trip stepped aside. "Of course," he said.

Sharon stepped forward and looked into the alien pod. She found that she was repulsed and fascinated by the appearance of the unconscious alien, who by now was oozing greenish fluid from a a myriad of cracks in its flaking, scaly skin. Oddly enough, the alien was oddly translucent, and she could almost, but not quite, see through parts of him as he lay on the bench below her. But then she remembered why she was here, and she tore her eyes away and looked, instead, at the consoles and panels of the computer which monitored the being's life functions. She couldn't be sure, of course, but she saw what looked like an outlet where a data cable might be plugged into the system. She looked at Trip.

"Do you see that outlet there?"she asked. "Do you think you could rig up a compatible connector for me?"

Trip looked where she pointed. "Yes, I think so."

"Do you have any optical cable?" Sharon asked.

"Yes, of course," Trip said, scratching his head. "But why?"

"If you could rig me up say, about two meters of optical cable with a connector on one end which can be plugged into that outlet, I'll show you," Sharon said, smiling.

"Do as she says, Trip," Captain Archer said.

"Yes, Sir," he said, and hurried away.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Admiral Adama asked, concern on his face. "What if that's not a data port? What if it's a power outlet or something like that?"

"This won't injure my patient, will it?" Phlox demanded. He was still very unhappy with himself at having allowed Captain Archer to torture his patient the previous day. He wasn't about to stand for any more of that.

Sharon looked at Phlox. "No, this shouldn't affect your patient at all, Doctor." Looking at Adama, she smiled sardonically. "It's a chance we'll have to take, Admiral. The Captain needs more information, and this may be the only way to get it for him."

"Thank you," Captain Archer said.

"I can't go back to my own people, Captain," Sharon said, a sad look on her face. "I've cast my fate with yours, and if I can do anything to save them, I will."

Trip came back, carrying a small coil of optical cable with the required connector attached. Sharon looked at Phlox. "Doctor, do you have a scalpel in your medical bag, by chance?"

"Why, yes," Phlox said, producing a laser scalpel from the emergency medical kit he carried.

Sharon took the cable from Trip, plugged the connector into the outlet in the alien pod, then held out her right arm, palm up. "Doctor, if you would be so kind as to make a small incision...about 2 centimeters ought to do it...in my wrist..."

Phlox hesitated, looking into Sharon's eyes, unsure of himself. But then, he gently took her hand in his own, and, turning on the scalpel, made a small incision in her upturned wrist as she had requested. Red, quite human-looking blood trickled out. Phlox turned the scalpel off and put it back into his med-kit. Then, to his amazement, Sharon plunged the end of the optical cable into the incision and pushed it up into her arm. She winced with pain as she did so, and sank slowly to the floor, sitting down with her back propped up on the cold metal of the alien pod. .

"Young lady! What are you doing!" Phlox exclaimed with alarm and started forward to stop her. But Admiral Adama grabbed him.

"It's all right, Doctor," Sharon said, recovering herself. "You've been studying us for a while, now. You know our nervous systems are made of silica."

Phlox gasped as he realized what she was doing. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "And you think you can achieve a direct interface between your brain and the alien computer by means of that optical cable?"

"She's done it before with our computers," Adama said as he released his grip on the doctor.

"So this is what you meant when you said she had 'unique abilities' when it came to computers," Trip said, a look of amazement on his face. "Well, for her sake, let's hope it works. Because that looks mighty painful!" T'Pol glared at him again.

Sharon smiled. "It's not pleasant, but its bearable," she said. "Shall we begin?"

"Go ahead," Captain Archer said.

Sharon closed her eyes and began to concentrate. She could see, in her mind, the alien computer code flashing by, and it was totally incomprehensible. But gradually, as she concentrated on it, it began to assume recognizable patterns. She made tentative attempts to control it, to manipulate it. At first she failed, but she kept trying, attempting different commands aimed at different parts of the system, trying to find a gateway which would allow her access to the system. .

Captain Archer watched her with rapt attention. He could see her trembling slightly as she did...whatever it was she was doing. _ Is she in pain, _he wondered. _If Cylons can feel pain, how like us they must be. And yet how different. _

After what seemed like an eternity but was, in reality, less than twenty minutes, Sharon's eyes suddenly opened. She stared straight ahead, into space, and then, her mouth opened as she began to speak. "I have access," she said. At that same moment, the alien shuddered as it lay, still unconscious, in its lifepod.

"Can you read its thoughts?" Archer asked.

"Yes," Sharon said, her voice a near monotone.

"We've theorized that these aliens are not only from another dimension, but from another time," Archer said. "We found, in the wreckage of the Xindi weapon which attacked Earth, evidence that some components of it were manufactured over four hundred years in the future. Were these aliens the source of that material?"

"Yes," Sharon said.

Archer squatted down in front of Sharon, looking deep into her eyes. "We know the weapon which attacked Earth was just a prototype. Does the alien know how far along the Xindi are in constructing the final version they intend to use to destroy the Earth?"

"Yes," Sharon said. "There is another prototype which they must complete and successfully test before they can finish the final weapon." As she spoke, the alien shuddered again, this time more violently. "He has sensed me," she said. "He is trying to repel me from his mind." She shuddered in turn. "The second prototype will be tested...within the next six weeks..." She cried out in pain.

Suddenly, there was a shower of sparks inside the alien pod. Foul smelling smoke rose from the panel where the optical cable was connected. Sharon quickly ripped the cable out of her arm. She sat with wide eyes, breathing raggedly. Phlox rushed to her side, scanning her with his medical tricorder. "She's received a severe shock to her nervous system," he said. He quickly reached into his med-kit for his autosuture and began treating the open wound left behind by the cable.

Archer looked up at the alien inside the pod, and was horrified to see it gradually disintegrate into a pool of greenish goo before his eyes. He looked down at Sharon. "He killed himself, and in the process, almost killed you," he said.

Sharon shuddered again, then her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. When she opened them again, she looked directly into Archer's eyes. "The spheres," she said. "You've got to destroy them. He tried to hide this from me, but I got past his defenses just before he..." She shuddered again. "The spheres, they don't just reconfigure space," she continued. "The aliens also use them to...create portals...to bring...from the future...the components the Xindi are using to build their weapon."

"How do we do that?" Archer asked.

"I...don't know," Sharon said, shaking her head from side to side. "I don't know. But...there's still time to...prevent the completion of the weapon...the Xindi don't have all the components they need...to finish it..." She passed out.

"The aliens haven't delivered all the components yet," Archer said softly, standing up. "But how do we destroy the Spheres?"

"Indeed," T'Pol said. "There is a vast network of them, spanning many light years of space in this region, Captain. To destroy them all would seem to be impossible."

"There's got to be a way," Malcolm said, slamming his right fist into his left hand for emphasis.

"Yes," Archer said. "And we'd better find it...quickly."


End file.
